Don't Pay the Ferryman
by Astraldust
Summary: After the Coalition finds the team not guilty of their crimes against the galaxy, Shiana decides to take matters into her own hands. Shep whump. Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

Spoilers:- Late S5. Small reference to Inquisition.

Rated:- K for mild language.

Disclaimer:- Unfortunately, I don't own Stargate Atlantis. If I did, it would still be on the air.

Sorry no beta. All mistakes are mine.

Don't Pay the Ferryman

Drey Brent didn't usually let his nerves get to him, but for some reason the scruffy fisherman felt a little apprehensive as he approached the disused storehouse. Maybe it was because the rendezvous with his cousin was wrapped in a veil of secrecy. It was making him paranoid. Once again, he quickly glanced up and down the rubbish strewn alleyway, just making double sure that no one had seen him.

The alleyway was still empty, so he quickly turned the tarnished handle and slipped inside. The storehouse door creaked alarmingly as its hinges hadn't seen a drop of oil for years. Brent cringed at the noise and quickly secured the door before entering the large musty room that had once been used for storing fishing nets and tackle.

The place was dark apart from a few scattered shafts of light being cast by several small, cobweb covered windows. In the shadow of an old crate, he could just make out the short figure of his cousin. He quietly called her name.

Shiana of the tribes of Santhal and a councillor in the new coalition of planets immediately responded, "It is good to see you again, Drey." She moved over to give him a quick hug even though the smell of him was positively disgusting.

"It is good to see you too, my cousin. Tell me what is so urgent that you must travel to this lowly planet to meet in secret?"

Shiana moved far enough away so that the pungent smell of fish was no longer quite so overpowering. "The other coalition members are fools. I need your help to bring justice when they were too blind and weak to do so."

Her tall, dark haired cousin nodded in understanding, "I was very disturbed to hear that the people of Atlantis went free and to know that our loved ones will not be revenged." In reality, Brent couldn't have cared less. He and his son were still alive and that's all that mattered.

The councillor didn't detect any falseness in his words, but there had been times when his lies had caused family quarrels. Shiana wasn't overly fond of him, but she needed his help this one time. "Indeed. A great transgression was done when they were not found guilty of their crimes against this galaxy, and especially against the planet of our birth. To carry out the necessary justice, I want you to arrange for a little accident. However it must have no connection to me. That way whatever transpires, the coalition will not be compromised and I will not lose my position within it."

"Do not worry. I will come up with a perfect solution. How many Atlantis people do you want killed in this...err…little accident?"

Shiana stopped to think for a minute. "I do not like taking lives even though the Atlanteans brought it upon us. No, I will be satisfied if only one man pays for the crimes, as I think he is the guiltiest. His death will be payment enough for the others."

Brent nodded and asked. "And his name is?"

"John Sheppard."

_Please review. I promise the next chapter will be longer. _


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Rodney McKay was not a happy man, not at all. He had work to do back in his lab and he really didn't want to be here in this busy little market place. It was too overcrowded for his liking and it stank to high heaven with the obnoxious smells of fish and other dubious food stuff. And even though Sheppard was trying his best to guide them through the quieter sections, it was still way too hectic.

Quickly scooting around yet another group of people, Rodney screwed up his face when a terrible overpowering waft of fish assaulted his sensitive nose. Then to make matters worse a few paces ahead, a large patch of very smelly, slimy goo ripened in the soaring heat. This time being downwind from it and distracted by a seller throwing fish to his customers, Rodney failed to notice the patch until the very last minute. His hasty little step nearly sent him tumbling, which no doubt would have resulted in a nosedive. Although comically clumsy, he somehow managed to correct his balance with an uncoordinated little leg twist and some frantic arm flapping. Saving both his dignity and a fate worse than death. McKay immediately pinched his nose, as he scooted around the repulsive mess as fast as his legs could carry him.

The incident only added fuel to Rodney's rapidly fading tolerance. The trek from the Stargate along a narrow sandy path full of potholes, sand snakes and a large aggressive spider had been tiresome enough, and now this. Once he'd moved far enough away from the offensive muck, Rodney stopped dead in his tracks and hollered at Sheppard.

"Oh, this is just wonderful! Did we really have to come to this smelly market to collect information that sounds highly dubious to me?"

John sighed and turned to face his teammate with a long-suffering look. "Yes, we did, Rodney."

Sheppard's expression immediately put McKay on the defensive. "Hello, in case you weren't listening, I just used the word smelly."

"I heard you."

"Okay then. Throw in dirty, overcrowded, germ-infested. Get the picture. Oh…and it's too darn hot." Rodney finished, wiping the beaded moisture from the forehead with his shirtsleeve.

"We're nearly there now, I'm sure you can manage the rest. Just keep your nose well covered." John advised, with a hint of amusement.

Turning back, Sheppard shook his head before giving his two other companions the same look. They simply exchanged a wearily smile and moved on.

Some things never changed and although they hadn't visited one of these markets in a donkey's age, McKay babbled on as if it had only been yesterday. One thing though, John had to agree about the smelly part, but that was probably unavoidable since this particular market was situated in the harbour district of a place called Mendora, on the unremarkable planet of Alesis with the gate address M5S 899.

The busy little town bordered a large saltwater sea. Understandably, it traded in all kinds of fish, plus many varieties of shellfish and a large mollusc that looked a little like a squid. Whatever it was, it stank and the squishy, dark green flesh appeared positively unappetising. John just hoped they wouldn't be asked to sample any of it.

The area of the market they were interested in lay a little further back from the waterfront. There they hoped to contact a local expert who supposedly had knowledge of a rare artefact that was allegedly the key to ZPM production.

John started leading his team further toward their goal. When Rodney didn't follow, he turned and hollered. "Move it, McKay!"

Left with no other choice, Rodney reluctantly joined his companions but he still thought it was a pure waste of time.

oOo

Demaris watched him enter the enclosed market hall. She knew his description well; it was burnt into her memory from the picture fisherman Brent had provided. Brent had assured her that the man was evil and the blood of many coated his hands. Demaris believed the words even though he looked innocent enough because she too had heard the tales of the one who had woken the Wraith.

Soon he would near her stall and Demaris would set in motion events that would lead to his eventual demise.

oOo

Sheppard quickly scanned the busy market hall. From his advantage of being a little taller than the most of the locals, he immediately spotted their contact's storefront over on the far side. Without hesitation, he began leading his team toward the store. People parted like a wave to let them through, almost as if they were afraid of the sight of them. John ignored it, only thankful that this part of the market traded in fruit and vegetables. Meaning, the overpowering smell of fish was a little less evident here.

It happened in an instant, a muffled thump and a loud cry. John hadn't even been aware of anyone in his path but the next thing he knew, some little old woman was glaring daggers at him from her prone position on the grimy floor.

He immediately reached down to help her but the woman avoided him like the plague and began muttering something in her own language.

"Please let me give you a hand up." John pleaded but the woman began chanting louder, causing the people around them to gasp in horror. John turned to his team for support but they were as baffled as he was by the crowd's reaction.

Teyla was the first to snap out of it. She moved to the woman's side and offered to help her but the old lady continued chanting, blatantly ignoring Teyla's outstretched hand.

The woman's chants ended as quickly as they had begun and she allowed a local to help her stand. John approached with an apology on his tongue but the woman pointed a gnarled finger at him and cursed. "All be lost before this day is cold, then your life be forfeit."

John shook his head in disbelief. "I beg your pardon, I don't know what just happened but I'm truly sorry if I knocked you over."

"You will be," she muttered, taking John by surprise when she threw some kind of powdery substance directly into his face.

John coughed, trying not to breathe any of the stuff in. It prickled his nose and he ended up giving a loud sneeze. Teyla handed him a handkerchief, which he gratefully took.

"Now look here, I don't know what your problem is. Even if I did cause you to fall there's no need to get nasty about it." Sheppard told the woman once he'd cleared his nose.

She blatantly turned her back to him.

Rodney and Ronon had stayed out of it finding it amusing that here was a woman that wasn't attracted by Sheppard's good looks and charm. However, Ronon thought things had gone far enough. He clapped John on the shoulder and whispered, "Come on, she's just a crazy old fool."

John nodded, carefully dusting himself down before moving off.

They managed to reach their contact's store without further incident. Although the shoppers had been positively hostile, targeting John in particular with looks of disdain and loathing.

Their contact rushed out of his store to greet them, ushering them inside as quickly as he could. "Please do not let that crazy old woman worry you. Demaris is just a harmless old witch."

John shook his head. "I don't what made her react the way she did. I really don't remember bumping into her."

"You didn't," Ronon assured him. Teyla and Rodney both agreed.

"As I said, she is crazy." The rather short and overweight store owner repeated, tapping his forehead. Strangely, the gesture seemed so earth-like that it almost reassured John. "Now shall we get down to business?"

"Yes, of course." Pushing the incident aside, John made the introductions. "This Teyla Emmagan, Ronon Dex, Dr. Rodney McKay. I'm John Sheppard. Now I understand you have information about an Ancient artefact that we may be interested in?"

"Ah…yes, the artefact. Anything for the good people of Atlantis." The store owner answered, with a slight hint of mockery. "My name is Lorenz Sagro and this…," his hands made a wide sweeping gesture indicating his numerous wares, "is my little treasure house."

The team looked around at the jumbled mess of objects that cluttered the little shop. There really didn't seem to be anything useful or Ancient in design among all the tasteless trash. McKay muttered something under his breath about useless junk, but a sharp nudge from Ronon quickly silenced him. He threw the Satedan a dirty look, convinced that he now had a large bruise.

However, Sagro had been quick to notice Rodney's reaction. "Ah…Dr. McKay thinks I make up a story. I am not foolish enough to keep such a valuable item in my store. It is safely hidden away in an old temple on the island of Tamoray and..."

"Oh, here we go again," proclaimed McKay, "There's always a catch."

John didn't like the way things were developing but they needed more information. "Rodney, let the man finish."

Sagro threw up his hands dramatically. "Yes, indeed! If you had let me finish, Dr. McKay, I would have said that I will take you to the temple personally. It is not a very long passage across the sea but it does entail using the local ferry."

John didn't exactly like the sound of that. "Why is it hidden?"

"Good question, Mr. Sheppard."

"It's Lieutenant Colonel. That's my rank."

"Yes, of course Lieutenant Colonel."

"Colonel will do."

Again, Sagro's raised his hands. "So many titles! But to answer your question, others wish to seek this artefact, including the Wraith. That is why it must remain hidden. I am one of the custodians but the other members have given me permission to let you examine it. We understand how important it is for the people of Atlantis to have the power to fight the Wraith. If this Ancestral artefact helps you, then we will be most gratified."

Rodney looked mildly disappointed. "So you're only going to allow me to examine the object during our visit to this temple?"

"If you can convince me that it will be of some use, then I may be able to let you remove it and take it back to Atlantis for a short period."

"Sounds fair enough, when do we start?"

"There is no hurry, Colonel. The next ferry does not leave until mid-afternoon, so go and have some food. If you like a hearty meal then Marta's restaurant, which is right next to the market hall, does a splendid fish soup."

The team looked at each other. Under normal circumstances they had nothing against fish as the cooks often went fishing to supplement the menu back on Atlantis. However, after the sights and smells of the market, no one fancied it.

John asked his team. "Are you really hungry enough to eat yet?" A stupid question as both Rodney and Ronon nodded eagerly. Teyla didn't really react but she rarely did. "Okay then. Are there any restaurants that serve a decent meal other than fish, Mr. Sagro?"

Sagro looked almost shocked. "We are very fond of our fish. But do not worry as Marta also serves some very splendid meat and vegetable dishes. I am sure you will find something to please you."

"All right then, where do we find her place?"

"I will show you the way. Then while you eat, I will prepare for the passage and close up my shop. Oh and…err…we must pay for the ferry when we reach the island. Do you have means?"

John frowned. "We didn't come prepared for a boat journey. You pay and we'll reimburse you later. You could also let us have enough coins to pay for the meal."

Sagro sputtered a little and didn't look particularly happy but he reluctantly agreed after John reassured him that he would be generously compensated.

Some fifteen minutes later, they entered a surprisingly comfortable and clean looking eatery with about ten tables of various sizes, all covered in very brightly coloured tablecloths.

The place wasn't very busy, just a few locals sitting over by the far wall. However, the minute Sheppard and his team sat down they got up and left. It would have seemed strange behaviour if it weren't obvious that the men had just finished eating. But it still left John feeling a little uneasy. Almost as if they were avoiding him. Although, he hadn't felt any particular animosity toward them when they had gone back through the market hall. In fact people had gone about their business and hadn't given him or his team a second glance. And much to John's relief, the old woman hadn't made a reappearance.

"What can I do for you fine people?" A pleasant looking, middle-aged woman asked as she approached their table.

John smiled up at her. "We'd like to eat something that's not fish please."

Just like Sagro, the woman looked shocked by his request. "You do not like fish?"

"Oh, we usually do. The terrible stink of fish here puts us off." Rodney answered, in his usual tactless manner.

Thankfully, the woman didn't seem to take offence. "It does smell a little bad when the weather is hot. If you really do not want fish, I can serve a nice thick meat and vegetable soup with some of my crusty bread."

Rodney and Ronon both nodded in eager agreement and John ended up ordering enough for the four of them plus some water. Although he didn't normally eat much off-world, for some reason he felt a little hungry. And the powerbar in his backpack probably wouldn't cut it, especially as they would probably be late getting back to Atlantis.

Rodney waited until the woman returned to the kitchen before saying. "Do you really want to follow this Sagro person on a boat journey to some island?"

"'fraid you'll be seasick, McKay?"

Rodney looked peeved. "I'll have you know, I do not suffer from seasickness. Anyway, why can't we go back to Atlantis, get a jumper and fly to this island."

John looked his friend in the eye. "I'd love to but somehow I don't think they'd allow it. It's just a short boat trip across the sea, Rodney. You get to examine the object and if it's worth anything, we'll convince Sagro to let us take it back with us. It will be a cake walk, just a pleasant afternoon on the water."

"Oh…as if we don't have any trouble on that kind of mission. I just don't like the idea of sailing on some local ferry full of people with baskets full of smelly fish. Kind of reminds of the one time in Greece when I was a kid. Do you know, I once…."

"Okay, we don't want another account of your traumatized childhood…."

The rest of John's retort stayed on his lips when an attractive, young serving girl approached carrying four bowls and spoons. She placed them around the table, lingering by John just long enough to be noticeable. Before leaving, she flashed him a brilliant smile.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Well, it seems not all the females on this planet are hostile toward you, Kirk."

"Yeah, that's good to know, and I much prefer her to the old bag in the market."

Ronon hit John squarely on the back, hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Thankfully, he wasn't eating already otherwise he would have lost his dinner. "You'd have to be desperate to go for that one, Sheppard."

Getting his breath back, John laughed and the uneasiness he'd felt since the market incident finally lifted. He looked at his team. "We'll take it as it comes. If Sagro isn't pulling a fast one, then this artefact could turn out to be the real McCoy. Just think of it, Rodney, it could be the means of producing our own ZPMs. Meaning no more power problems, ever. That's gotta be worth a little discomfort on a ferry, hasn't it?"

Sheppard had made a good pointed, so Rodney finally agreed.

Teyla hadn't like Sagro's scheming manner one bit. She turned to Sheppard. "Although I agree that we should undertake the trip, I believe we should be extra vigilant. I do not trust the man."

John smiled at Teyla's wisdom. She could always be relied upon for her good judgment. "Same here, but it's nothing we can't handle. Anyway, I told Woolsey we'd get back to him as soon as we had anything. We'll make contact with Atlantis before we leave for the…."

Just then, the girl returned to the table cutting off John's retort once again. The tray she carried held a large bowl of streaming soup, four glasses and a jug of water. She could have gone between Teyla and Rodney, who were nearest to the kitchen, but she deliberately went around the other side before carefully placing a glass before each team member. She even slapped Rodney's wrist when he tried to take his own.

"I will bring the bread in a minute," she told them huskily, bending over the table to place the soup bowl in the middle, giving Ronon and John a full view of her amble backside and long slender legs.

They muttered their thanks and waited until she had returned with the bread before helping themselves to the soup. The soup's aroma smelt exceedingly good. Both Rodney and Ronon filled their bowls almost to the top. John was a little more restrained. Even though he was hungry, he only filled his bowl just over halfway. Teyla gave him a questioning look as he had taken about the same as she had.

"I can always have a second helping." He told her before tucking into the soup and giving a delightful sigh. "Hey…this is good."

"Good doesn't cover it, Sheppard." Ronon commented. "It's the best I've tasted for a long time. Can't we kidnap her for our kitchen?"

John chuckled. McKay took a second from his frantic eating to comment. "Yes, yes, that's an excellent idea. Then we can ship that disagreeable cook Mathews back to Earth."

John looked up. "Got some trouble with him, Rodney?"

"Are you kidding? He knows I can't eat lemons, yet he continually makes nothing but lemon cakes, lemon sorbet, lemon meringue pies, lemon…."

"Yeah, they're delicious." Ronon grunted around a spoonful of soup.

"I'm sure they are but that's not the point. I think he does it on purpose just to annoy me."

John exchanged an amused look with Teyla but didn't say anything, like pointing out the fact that Rodney was the only one on Atlantis with a citrus allergy. Rodney soon forgot about it anyway as he cleaned his bowl with a piece of crusty bread before popping it into his mouth.

From her vantage point behind a small counter, Marta watched the strangers eat. The dark haired one was not eating quite so much as the other men and she wondered if the soup was not to his liking. She was still angered by the distraction in her kitchen just as the soup was ready to serve. Later, she intended to have a very strong word with her foolish serving girl for allowing Turk into her kitchen. The boy was a troublemaker just like his father.

Marta had already heard about the curse old woman Demaris had put upon the dark haired stranger. News travelled fast in Mendora. Like must locals, she had a great respect for the old witch, meaning the stranger was worthy of her disdain. Marta would have preferred not to interact with him but if she wanted payment, then she had no choice.

"Was everything to your satisfaction?" She asked once they had finished.

Ronon stretched his long legs and lent back in his chair. "Best meal I've had in a while."

"That is very kind of you to say so."

"Yes, I agree, it was delicious. Thank you." Teyla added.

Rubbing his stomach, Rodney nodded. "Scrumptious

When he didn't say anything, Marta turned to the cursed one and asked. "And you, sir?"

John had wanted to say something but for some reason the soup had settled heavily on his stomach, leaving him feeling slightly uncomfortable. "Thank you, it was very good. How much do we owe you?"

Marta brightened at the mention of payment. "That will be twenty one Satii please."

John dug into his top pocket and pulled out a few of the coins he'd received from Sagro. He inspected them closely, hoping it was enough to pay the woman. When he looked up, the room swam alarmingly, so he quickly picked up his glass and gulped down the rest of his water hoping it would clear his head. Thankfully it did.

Teyla lightly touched his arm. "John, are you all right?"

Trust Teyla to notice. "Yep, it's just a little warm in here." He passed over the coins to the woman and said, "I think that should cover it."

Marta looked at them and smiled, he had given her thirty. "That is very kind of you."

John returned her smile and asked. "Could you tell us the most straightforward way to the ferry port from the Stargate?"

Marta looked confused by the term Stargate but ignored it to say. "So you are leaving for the island of Tamoray?"

"Yes. Is there more than one island?"

"Many, but Tamoray is the biggest and the only one with a ferry service," she told him.

At that moment, several customers entered the eatery. Marta quickly moved away to attend to them. They were obviously locals and several glanced their way with unfriendly stares. The team ignored them as they gathered up their belongings.

Unfortunately, they didn't get another chance to speak to Marta. Once outside, the fresh sea air helped soothe John's queasiness and he actually began to look forward to the sea trip.

He turned to his team. "Okay, Sagro told us to meet him by the dock, so we'd better head on out if we want to contact Woolsey first. Then we'll need to find the port. Wherever that is?"

TBC

_Thanks for the reviews_._ A few of you mentioned that they should have done a follow up to Inquisition. I always felt that Shiana's hatred ran deep and she would find some way to revenge her loved ones without being directly involved. Hence my story. This chapter is just a warm up to the whump to come. _


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

After contacting Woolsey, it didn't take them long to find the correct dock. People had been helpful with their directions, although there had been a definite aloofness but that wasn't so unusual when dealing with suspicious locals.

The place reminded Sheppard of the rustic and quaint fishing harbours of Britain or Ireland. The roughly L-shaped wall was made of solid blocks of natural stone. It jutted out to sea for about eighty metres, protecting the quay from the elements. A few small boats made of wood with cloth sails bobbed up and down in the gentle swell. If the planet had tides, then judging by the water level, it must be high.

Sitting along the quay a few locals were trying their luck with simple fishing lines. They didn't seem to be catching very much. Some glanced their way but thankfully gave them no lingering attention.

As they appeared to be early, the team found a quiet spot to wait. Several birds flew overhead making sounds similar to a seagull. Their plumage was bright yellow making Rodney commented that they looked like overgrown canaries. The two Pegasus natives looked puzzled and John explained that they were small song birds sometimes kept as caged pets back on Earth. That didn't go down well with Teyla and the look she threw him made John feel as if she was blaming him for caging the birds.

After that they didn't engage in anymore conversation. Slowly people began to gather to wait for the ferry and John couldn't help noticing several hostile looks being thrown his way. For some reason it was unnerving and he began to wonder if this was a good idea after all. However, they were committed. Woolsey had given them the go-ahead, so they'd just have to make the most of it and be extra vigilant.

As is often the case, time dragged as they waited. Sagro hadn't made an appearance yet, but by the growing number of people it appeared the ferry was due anytime soon. And unless it was a very large vessel indeed, it was going be very full. Ronon murmured a comment about the large number of male citizens in proportion to females. John could only speculate that some of them were migrant workers returning home.

A sudden bustle went through the crowd and the team turned as one to watch as the ferry came into view. It only took about ten minutes for the medium sized, metal and wooden vessel to enter the harbour, amid a cloud of smoke and fumes.

Over the excitement of the passengers, John heard McKay groan and mutter, "You've got to be kidding me. I'm not going on that thing."

John shouted loud enough for Rodney to hear him over the people's noise and the ship's engine. "What's wrong with it? Seems seaworthy enough to me!"

"What's wrong with it? Are you crazy? That thing is made of wood and is steam driven!" Rodney proclaimed, as if it was the most terrible thing in the universe.

John looked puzzled. "So what? The hull appears to be metal and there's plenty of steam driven ships still in operation back home."

"Oh yes, little pleasure boats puffing around on calm lakes not ocean going vessels. Take the Titanic! That ship was supposed to be unsinkable and look what happened to it!"

"It hit an iceberg. I don't think we're going to encounter any icebergs." John retorted, swiping the back of his hand across his forehead to wipe away the sheen of sweat that had suddenly broken out, despite his mention of ice.

"Maybe not but think of all that fire and smoke, not to mention the dubious looking hull. I'm telling you Sheppard, I am not going on that ship! We always have to do what you want, even when we don't agree with it! You're a damn selfish, irresponsible bastard!"

Open mouthed, John just stared at his friend, wondering what the heck had come over him. Rodney had his quirky moments but this was so unlike him. "I shall ignore what you just said and put it down to nerves. To reiterate, I thought we all agreed on this?"

Rodney was almost red with anger. "I am not nervous! It's you wanting to go and us having to tag along, as usual!"

Ronon growled and grabbed Rodney by his TAC vest. "That's not so, we all agreed on this and I trust Sheppard."

Strangely, Teyla said nothing to Rodney's outburst. She just threw John another hostile look before turning to watch the passengers as they began to board the vessel.

Busy dealing with McKay, John didn't notice her look. "Ronon let him go. We won't be boarding anyway unless Sagro shows up and seeing as there's no sign of him."

"Ah…there you are good people!" The man in question called. The team turned to watch him approach, wondering how the heck Sagro had arrived seemingly out of nowhere. "Come, we must hurry as they will be leaving shortly," he encouraged.

Rodney looked mortified and his moaning could be heard all the way to the gangway.

John turned and scowled at him, "After you, Rodney."

"Mark my words we'll live to regret this day, Sheppard!" McKay growled. When he didn't move quickly enough, Ronon gave him a forceful push up the gangplank.

John hung back and waited until his team were onboard before walking onto the vessel. A groan escaped his lips when he saw how crowded the upper deck was. His queasiness was back. In fact, he hadn't felt so wonderful since returning from the Stargate. He would have preferred staying topside but there simply wasn't a centimetre left to spare.

They pushed through the crowds as Sagro called the team over. "I am so sorry but the upper deck has no room left. There is still plenty of space below deck where you will find comfortable seating to rest your legs and they also serve cool drinks for very little coin."

"And all these people aren't below deck because?" Rodney asked.

"They like to witness the departure. Many of them have loved ones on the pier to wave goodbye to. I am sure you understand that. Oh, and please keep those weapons a little less visible. The passengers are easily scared."

John didn't know how they were supposed to conceal their P90's but he didn't comment as Sagro took them below deck. He just wanted to take the weight off his legs.

Sagro was right about the lower deck, it was far less crowded. The area contained numerous darkly lacquered, wooden benches, arranged in rows. Sagro quickly found them a seating area in one corner near a small sealed porthole.

On the opposite bench sat a heavily pregnant woman with a child about the same age as Torren. Teyla immediately exchanged a smile with her and went over to sit next to the child.

The men looked at her strangely. She had hardly exchanged a word with them in the last hour, so her action now seemed a little abrupt. John began to wonder if his deodorant had let him down.

Rodney pushed it aside, although he continued to mutter under his breath about enclosed places and sinking ships. John ignored him and sat down wearily on the hard bench. His queasiness was turning into a full-blown nausea, which he needed to get it under control. He thought the best way was to concentrate on his surroundings. So he did just that. Though as a precaution he scanned the deck for any sign of a washroom, just in case he needed to make a mad dash. Strangely there didn't seem to be any obvious doors or signs. Seemingly odd as the ship was full and apparently took at least an hour to reach its destination. John turned to ask Sagro where they were but the plump man had mysteriously disappeared.

"Did either of you see Sagro leave?" He asked, just as the ship gave a sickening lurch.

"Oh, wonderful," Rodney groaned, "I told you this thing wasn't safe."

"Rodney, we're just pulling away from the dock. I'm sure everything is fine. Did you see where Sagro went?"

Ronon simply shrugged his shoulders. He was sandwiched between Sheppard and McKay, sprawled over the bench with his arms folded across his broad chest, eyes closed in the pretence of sleep.

On the other hand, Rodney still had plenty to say, "What am I, Sagro's keeper now? No, I did not see where that slimy, fast taking, good for nothing, overweight weasel disappeared to. I don't get you at all, Sheppard. Why are you putting so much trust in that repulsive slim pot? You're a bloody stupid, brainless idiot."

John gapped at Rodney, open mouthed. Whatever had gotten into to him was showing no signs of abating. "I don't trust him at all but we're committed, so let's make the most of it. And don't...ever...call me a bloody stupid, brainless idiot again."

The two friends glared at each other. Then Rodney opened his mouth. "I'll call you what I like, you useless moron."

That cut deep, deeper than Rodney's previous words. It felt like a dagger to the heart, but before John could form a suitable response, Rodney lent across to scrutinize him. "I don't believe it!" He nudged Ronon in the ribs, quickly pulling back when the big Satedan growled softly. "Sheppard's getting seasick and we're hardly out of the harbour."

John gritted his teeth and snarled, "I am not seasick. I feel a little queasy but it must have been something I ate because it came on before we embarked."

"Ha…that's what you'd like us to believe." Rodney spat out, there was no kindness in his tone, "If it's something you ate, then how come we're not feeling sick? We all had the same soup. I'm feeling fine." Rodney crowed before nudging Ronon again, having completely forgotten the Satedan's reaction the last time. "You feeling okay, Ronon?"

All he got was a muttered. "Yup."

"See, Ronon's fine and Teyla must be all right otherwise she wouldn't be playing with that kid. Nope you're going green because we're at sea and by the feel of it, it must be really, really, calm. You'll never live this down Sheppard. Ha…ha…not so heroic after all, just don't puke all over us."

John gave him a disparaging look. "I'll try not to," he replied, sarcastically. He really didn't want to continue this conversation. Rodney's aggressive behaviour certainly wasn't helping his nausea any and John was still smarting over his hurtful comments. He was sure his friend didn't mean any of it but it still left him feeling very despondent. So unclipping his P90, John asked Ronon to safeguard it before leaning back and closing his eyes, eternally grateful when Rodney decided to leave him in peace.

It worked for quite a while. In fact, at some stage he must have dozed off but John suddenly jolted awake when the most awful, vice like pain twisted his stomach. He gasped and swallowed hard, feeling the blood literally drain from his face with shock. Intense nausea accompanied the pain but John didn't want it to happen here, not in front of his team and all the other passengers. He closed his eyes for a minute and took some deep breaths, quietly sighing when the pain eased off and the immediate threat to vomit passed over.

Despite that, he still felt decidedly dreadful and even though the room temperature was comfortably warm, a shiver ran through him as he broke out in a cold sweat. John quickly stood on incredibly shaky legs and just about managed to stumble to the nearest pillar. Leaning heavily against it, he scanned the deck for any sign of the elusive washroom. When he couldn't see one in his line of sight, he made the mistake of rotating a couple times. His vision suddenly blurred and beneath his feet the floor pitched up and down. Almost as if the sea had suddenly turned very rough. He tired to focus but along with the sensation of movement, the whole deck began to turn alarmingly. His stomach didn't like that and the need to gag returned, full blast.

John pushed away from the pillar to the nearest group of indistinct figures. "Where's the washroom, please?" He called out. Annoyingly, no one answered him. John felt like yelling at them.

Getting no help from the passengers, he turned his attention to his team. He needed to find them but they didn't appear to be anywhere nearby. His confused mind was just trying to work that out when a shove from behind nearly sent him sprawling to the floor.

"We cannot have you being seasick in here." A rough voice growled in his ear. Then several men encouraged him to move toward the stairwell.

Many eyes followed Sheppard as he stumbled to the stairs but none tried to intervene or help. Most had heard about the curse and couldn't give a damn about the stranger's fate.

John started to ascend knowing that the upper deck was a good idea. The fresh air should help. He made it with some difficulty, struggling on the last step when a missed footing nearly sent him tumbling back down. He lurched for the railing like a drunkard, gripping it hard while gulping in several deep breathes. The salty air filled his lungs and helped to clear his vision but the light-headedness and queasiness remained. John knew the battle to keep his stomach under control would be lost any minute. He only hoped that by getting rid of whatever was making him ill would make him feel better again. He'd suffered from food poisoning before in such places as Afghanistan, but it had never felt quite like this.

When he couldn't keep it down any longer, John spent several minutes throwing up into the sea. It left him feeling drained and not much better. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he looked up hoping that no one had witnessed his embarrassment. Fortunately, there didn't appear to be a soul in sight as the crowds had mysteriously disappeared. Maybe there was another deck somewhere or they had all gone below.

Then John realised that a thick sea fog was descending to cover the ship. Instinct told him to go back inside, as it was getting quite chilly. A gust of cold air caught him and he shivered despite his TAC vest and shirt. But as much as he wanted to move, John still felt queasy and it wasn't long before he was leaning over the side again.

The spell lasted a little longer. By the end, John was pretty sure his stomach was now empty. However, the annoying nausea persisted. Maybe Rodney was right and he was suffering from seasickness. Which was very strange, it had never troubled him before.

Thinking of Rodney made him wonder where his team were and why they hadn't come to see how he was. He began to fret. Maybe they were in trouble and needed his help. Yet despite his concern he just couldn't muster up enough energy to investigate right now. He ended up resting his head on the railing and failed to notice that the men from the lower deck were now standing directly behind him. A shove in the back of his leg was John's first warning of trouble.

John slowly raised his head to tell the person to be more careful and came face to face with Sagro. "Oh thank god, could you please find my team and tell them I'm up here getting some fresh air?"

"Oh, I do not think we need to worry them. They are currently busy talking to some of our people." Sagro answered him, far too pleasantly.

John didn't like his attitude or close proximity. Warning bells started to go off. He wanted to ask what the hell was going on but his stomach picked that very moment to cramp up again, extremely painfully. It left him breathless and it took a couple of agonizing minutes before the discomfort eased enough for him to ask. "What do you mean by that?"

Another man came forward, a total stranger to John. "He means they are otherwise engaged and not at all interested in your wellbeing."

"That's a...bold...faced lie." John managed grind out through another wave of intense pain. "What have…you done to my...team?"

Sagro moved even closer, he seemed a little edgy. "I can assure you we have done nothing to them. The young woman is currently helping a mother to settle her child in one of the ship's cabins. The over talkative one is comparing notes with the ship's engineer and the big one is showing off his strength to a small number of the crew in an arm wrestling contest. As for you, Colonel, well...we have other plans. Do we not, Brent?"

"We most certainly do. You see, Sheppard, I am here to revenge my people. I am sure you remember all the planets that have suffered since you arrived in the city of the Ancestors. Well, my planet was one of them. It was destroyed by beings far too powerful for us to defeat. They came in their ships and wiped out thousands of innocent lives. I believe you were the one that set them on that course of action."

By now, John knew for sure that these men weren't here to make idol conversation. He had a very bad feeling about it and didn't like the direction things were taking, one bit. But as if to remind him of his vulnerability, another more powerful cramp left him gasping and crutching his stomach. How can he hope to defend himself like this? But no matter what, he wasn't going down without a fight. He fumbled for his P90, then suddenly remembered that Ronon had it. His handgun seemed to be missing too.

"Have you nothing to say for yourself?" Brent asked. His tone sounded dangerously low.

John nearly spluttered. The man knew very well that he was currently incapacitated. Yet somehow, he managed to gasp out. "I…don't know…where you got your…facts from but I…."

John's thoughts suddenly turned to McKay. He was the one who rewrote the replicator code. What would they do to Rodney if they found out? Besides, indirectly it was his fault. After all, he was the one that gave the order so John didn't complete his sentence. And despite his agony, he managed to look his accuser in the eye. Apart from him and Sagro, six others now surrounded them, local men by the look of them. One of them was just a youth and from the ugly smirk on his face, he seemed to be openly enjoying John's discomfort.

Even though the fog had now lifted, the rest of the deck remained strangely empty. But just before his stomach did another heave, John caught sight of a passenger on the stairway. He wanted to call for help but was forced to lean over the railing, so he didn't witness when the man quickly turned tail.

When John stopped gagging, Brent moved closer and spoke in his ear, "Justice will be served Sheppard. I do not like killing in cold blood but you obviously do not have a problem with it."

John's internal alarm was screaming full blast. He had to get away from these men but they were blocking the stairway to the lower deck. The only other visible escape route was up a narrow gangway, presumably leading to the bridge. That was probably his best option. If he could alert the Captain or a crew member, maybe they would intervene.

However, before John could make a move, another spasm hit and he was forced to grasp the railing for dear life. He retched but it was only dry heaves as his stomach was now completely empty. So Rodney had been wrong about the seasickness. John guessed he'd been poisoned at the restaurant or with the powder the old witch had thrown into his face. Maybe they were just waiting for him to die. It sure felt like it.

Just as John thought that, he began to feel marginally better. Lurching away from the railing he struck out at his nearest assailant, taking the man totally by surprise when his fist connected squarely with his jaw. To John's satisfaction, the man went down instantly. Unfortunately, the hit hadn't been hard enough to knock the bastard out. He was dazed, but retained the ability to glare daggers at John. It was the one called Brent.

John's ineffectual strike left him trembling so it didn't take much of an effort to restrain him. Rough hands quickly grabbed his arms, pinning them behind his back.

Brent rubbed his jaw and slowly got up. "That just goes to show what a brute you are."

Thankfully, John found his voice strong enough to reply. "What do you expect me to do, take this laying down? You're accusing me of something I had no power over."

Brent laughed; it was harsh to the ears. "I do not believe that for a moment. You and your people are a curse to this galaxy. No better than the Wraith." He paused for a second. "It has been decided that someone must pay the price for these crimes and that someone will be you."

Brent's words sliced through John, leaving him cold to the core. He knew his only real hope was to keep the man talking, then maybe his team would realise that something was up.

"We," John emphasised, "didn't intend for things to go the way they did. I accidentally woke the Wraith during a rescue…" John never managed to complete his sentence before another powerful spasm struck. It left him gasping for breath and almost doubled over. Biting into his lip, he clutched his stomach tightly at the intensity of the pain. He couldn't help letting a small whimper escape.

What happened next, hit John so abruptly he didn't have time to react. Several hands pushed him hard against the railing and a few swift, powerful strikes to the back of the legs left him defenceless as he slowly sank to his knees. Then they grabbed him brutally by the arms and legs, lifting him up, raising him toward the railing.

John kicked out with his heavy boots, struggling to get free. He squirmed and thrashed like a bucking bronco. A satisfactory crunch reached his ears when his boot struck someone in the nose but John couldn't see the extent of the damage. However, his attempts were useless as many more hands moved to grab him until his limbs were pinned down and restrained.

He tried screaming for help but in the next instant, he was lifted higher and launched into thin air.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

John instinctively tried to slow his descent by flailing his arms but within seconds his body slammed into the sea and plunged beneath the waves. His automatic gasp took in a mouthful of salty water. Panicky fear quickly drove him to the surface to spit it out before it got into his lungs. It still caused a hacking coughing fit. John greedily gulped in air to get his breath back once it subsided.

The waves weren't very high but he still had to fight to keep his head above water while trying to turn to get his bearings. When he finally caught sight of the ferry, it had already moved away from his position. Once again, his stomach cramped painfully and John knew he wasn't fit enough to swim for it. It would have been an impossible task, even on a good day and with the right gear.

The icy cold water quickly saturated his clothing. He started to tremble alarmingly; it wasn't all due to the conditions. John knew well enough that his nervous system had gone into total shock. The question was, how long could he survive without life saving equipment? Probably ten to twenty minutes at the most.

Despite that knowledge John made the effort to tread water but his legs quickly grew tired. His saturated clothing weighed him down, especially the heavy boots. It would have been difficult enough to remove them even if he'd had the strength but between the cramps and the waves, it was darn right impossible.

John was in deep trouble and he knew it. He'd been stupid and let his guard down. His stomach cramped again, reminding him just how vulnerable an unsuspecting person could be to underhanded attacks. They knew exactly how to tackle him. First weaken with poison and then outnumber. Normally they would never have overpowered him so easily. _Cowards, every one of them. _John just prayed that his team were safe and the assailants had been truthful when they had told him the attack was only against him.

Suddenly, the old woman's words came to the fore. _All be lost before this day is cold, then your life be forfeit_. John almost laughed aloud, he really didn't believe in curses or foretelling. In all likelihood, they had used her to instigate their assignation plan by turning the people against him. And what of his team. Had they really turned their backs on him too? John refused believe that. Flatly refused to take that knowledge to his grave. Somehow with drugs or whatever, they had manipulated his team.

Moving with the swell, John kept treading water as best he could. Time passed and by now the ship was lost in the far distance, leaving John with nothing but the vast open sea. Drowning was certainly not the way he had expected to die. _Murdered by a bunch of irate citizens._ Although when he thought about it, irate citizens could be even more dangerous than a horde of Wraith. But being thrown to the fish was certainly an anticlimax after all the near misses he'd had.

More time slipped by. And despite being summer in this hemisphere, the sea was still darn cold. It crept into his bones and John knew he was quickly becoming hypothermic, so it wouldn't be long now. Ironically, his stomach felt better and the cramps finally stopped.

He was tiring very quickly and the next more powerful swell sent his head under. He couldn't avoid breathing in a small amount of water. It resulted in another coughing fit. He could breathe easy once it stopped, but John knew well enough that the next larger wave would trigger the same problem.

His thoughts drifted to Atlantis and the people that had become his family. It saddened him greatly to think he would never see them again. Never see the proud spiral city, defiant and beautiful as it floated on the deep blue, glistening sea.

Here the sea was John's enemy. He had to blink continuously to clear the salty water from his smarting eyes but it didn't help much. Anyway, he could hardly keep them open any longer. Half lidded, he focused over the waves and did a double blink when he caught a glimpse of a shining tower. He snapped his eyes open. Yes, it was definitely a tower. Not just one but many arranged like a snowflake. _Atlantis._ Atlantis had come to say goodbye.

He blinked away more water and when he looked again, the vision had faded from view. So it had just been a figment of his imagination but it left him feeling peaceful. At that point, John acknowledged his fate. _They say that drowning is an easy way to die._ _Let go, John and wait for the colours._ _There will be no miracle rescue this time._ He calmly accepted that truth just as an incredible sense of lethargy overwhelmed him and he just couldn't find the energy to thread water anymore.

Exhausted, he simply let go, allowing the waves to lap over his head, into his eyes and nasals. He started to descend through the crystal shimmer like a sinking bird, arms spread wide. His lungs began to leak their precious air in a series of little bubbles. The oxygen quickly ran out and his lungs burnt with the need for more. He started to panic but then came the colours came. Beautiful, calming and John relaxed.

In his final seconds, he vaguely felt something large brushed against his leg but he was barely conscious enough to register it. A lucid thought flashed an instant before oblivion. _At least he won't be alive to find out what that was._

oOo

Teyla laughed as the young woman told her another tale about the husband that was waiting on for her Tamoray. The man's antics reminded Teyla of Kanaan during one of his silly moments.

"Men are impossible sometimes, are they not?"

"Yes, they are and yet you travel with three of them." The woman pointed out.

Teyla nodded and a small smile adorned her face. "They are good friends but sometimes I need a break from them."

"That is understandable." The woman remarked before leaning down to pick up her sleeping child. "It was very kind of the attendant to let me have this cabin for free. Believe me it has never happened before."

Teyla smiled at her. "Maybe he took pity on you."

"Yes, I was feeling a little exhausted and the short rest has done me much good. We have nearly reached the island, so I want to thank you for looking after Jannac while I rested. He enjoyed your company very much."

"You are most welcome. I enjoyed his company also. Good luck for the future. I do hope the new baby turns out to be the little girl you so dearly wish for.

"Yes, but I will be happy either way as long as the child is healthy."

Teyla nodded in agreement and said her goodbyes before quietly leaving the cabin to rejoin the others. The lower deck was emptier than she remembered as many passengers had already gone topside for the docking. There was no immediate sign of her team, so she walked among the seating, scanning the room until she spotted Rodney emerging from a door marked crew only.

Teyla quickly moved over to him. "Where have you been?"

"One of the so called engineers showed me the motor room. A fascinating place full of cumbersome machinery, at least two hundred years behind us. Reminded me of an old locomotive," Rodney paused to take a breath, "Considering the town we just left didn't even have electricity, it's somewhat strange that they have this vessel. And they told me it's the only one…."

At that moment, Ronon came up behind him and clapped him firmly on the shoulder. "In a better mood now?"

"I wasn't in a mood. Where have you been?"

"Got into an arm wrestling match with some of the crew," Ronon grinned, "I won!"

Rodney shot him an exasperated look. "Nothing new then," he muttered. "Apparently we're nearly at our destination, so let's collect Sheppard and get ready to leave this junk pile." They turned as a team to the area where they had left John only to find it empty.

Rodney frowned. "I wonder where he's gone off to. He was here when I left."

"Yep, looked a bit pale but he was fast asleep." Ronon added.

Teyla looked confused. "Maybe he has already gone to the upper deck?"

Rodney sighed. "Okay, let's go play find the leader."

They trailed up the stairs to discover that the deck was as nearly crowded as they remembered during their departure but with good reason because the ship was just pulling into the harbour. Excitement swept through the crowd, many calling and waving their greetings to the people waiting on the quay.

The minute the gangway touched land there was a mass exodus. It must have taken no more than ten minutes or so for all the passengers to disembark leaving them the only ones onboard, besides the crew and the sneaky merchant. A growing uneasiness spread through the team as Sheppard was still nowhere in sight. Surely they hadn't missed him? Just as they were about to go and search the lower deck again, Sagro turned up.

"Ah, there you are! Shall we proceed?"

"Are you kidding? In case you haven't noticed, we're one person down. Have you seen Sheppard anywhere?" Rodney asked.

"Oh, I am sorry. I thought the good Colonel had already gone ashore."

"No, he has not! And we're not leaving without him."

"Yes of course, Doctor McKay, we must find him. I will alert the crew. When did you last see him?"

The team all looked a little guilty. Ronon answered for them, "A while ago. He felt unwell. We left him sleeping on the bench you showed us to."

"Really? Maybe he is in the washroom." Sagro smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I would not have thought Colonel Sheppard was prone to seasickness? It was a very calm crossing."

Teyla's concern was beginning to mount and she most certainly didn't like the man's patronizing attitude. Not having realised that John had been so unwell, she felt terrible now for ignoring him earlier. Even though for some reason his company had irritated her. She turned to Sagro. "Are there any other cabins where he could be resting?"

"A few but rest assured, my dear, we will search the whole ship. I am sure he is somewhere and simply does not realise that we have arrived at our destination." Sagro smiled inwardly. It would be a fruitless search but one he had to carry out for appearances sake.

In the following thirty minutes or so, every inch of the ship was thoroughly searched. The team insisted on searching again. At first the captain seemed disgruntled, but he eventually allowed it. However, with every passing minute and still no sign of Sheppard, their concern escalated. It was as if their leader had simply vanished into thin air. None of them wanted to voice what that may mean because there was only one place to go while at sea, unless there was another boat available. However, that didn't seem to be the case. Much to Rodney's dismay, the ferry appeared to have no lifeboats or lifesaving equipment onboard. Not even a rubber ring.

"I am so sorry," Sagro called, as he approached with the captain in tow, "but there is really only one explanation. Colonel Sheppard must have fallen overboard during a bout of sickness." The team looked shocked. However, it only confirmed their worst fears.

Teyla found her voice even though inside she felt wretched with worry. "Surely someone would have seen it and raised the alarm?"

"Wouldn't have made that much difference without the right equipment," Rodney complained.

The captain gave him a glare. "I would have stopped the ship and turned back for him had I known. However, if it happened while we were in the area of the mist, then there was every chance that no one witnessed it. All passengers and crew sensibly stay below deck during that short period."

Ronon look ready to throttle the man. "Whatever, it still shouldn't have happened."

"I totally agree with you but there is nothing we can do about it now," said the captain.

Sagro tried to convince them further. He wanted these people out of his hair as soon as possible. "It is very unfortunate but if that is what occurred, then he would have stood no chance of survival. The sea is cold and there are no nearby islands in the shipping lane."

The captain was also anxious to see them leave for another reason. "I am truly sorry for your loss but I have a ship to run and there are many people waiting to return to Mendora. I am asking you to either go ashore or stay onboard for the return journey. Under the circumstances, I will not charge you a fee."

"Oh, how very generous of you," Rodney muttered sarcastically before turning to his companions. They looked at each other knowing that nothing could be done from the island. "We're staying onboard." Rodney decided for them. The captain nodded and instructed his crew to allow the new passengers to embark.

During the passage back to Mendora, three very desperate people spent the entire journey scanning the water for any sign of their friend; knowing deep down it was a hopeless gesture. The so-called area of the mist wasn't as bad as the captain had made out. It was cold when the sea fog covered the ship but not enough to drive everyone below deck. It just didn't make sense, unless something more sinister was afoot. Whatever, John had vanished and worst of all, they may never find out what really happened to him.

By the time they docked back in Mendora, the evening twilight had painted the place in dark shadows. The bustling market appeared like a ghost town with only the odd piece of litter fluttering in the breeze or rodent scurrying across the ground having found the odd morsel left behind.

To the despondent team, it seemed a fitting way to end a terrible day as they silently made their way back to the Stargate to report their loss.

TBC _Thanks for the reviews. Please keep them coming. Hope this chapter is OK but I noticed there are some download problems like missing text. _


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Woolsey gasped in disbelief. "What do you mean he fell overboard?"

"We were on a ship. Sheppard disappeared. We searched the ship and I mean the whole damn ship from bow to stern. So unless they had some very secret hidey-hole or they somehow managed to get him off ship, which is highly unlikely considering we were travelling at about twenty knots and the hull was rather steep sided, then that's the only logical explanation."

"I understood that, Dr. McKay, but it just doesn't seem...logical. From what you described, the ship's railing was of a standard height and the sea was relatively calm, so why would Colonel Sheppard lean so far over as to risk falling in?"

The team looked at each other, then Teyla voiced the opinion they had talked about during the passage back to Mendora. "We concluded exactly the same. Although we had no proof, we believe the Colonel may have been thrown overboard as many factors just do not add…."

Rodney interrupted her. "Yes, yes, take the old woman for instance. We're sure Sheppard didn't knock her over and even if he did, why get so angry as to put a curse on him. It just doesn't make sense."

"Then there's the sickness." Ronon added.

"Yes...the sickness and to think I belittled him for being seasick." Rodney felt absolutely appalled by his behaviour.

Woolsey could see the pain in Rodney's countenance when he asked, "And he was the only one to get ill?

Rodney nodded. "It could have been the powder the old bat threw in his face but then others would have been affected including me because I was close enough to inhale some of the stuff too. So that probably means he was somehow infected at the eatery."

Although that was the only logical explanation, Ronon wasn't convinced. "How?"

"How do I know? I'm a scientist not a detective."

"Talking about police, did you inform the local constabulary concerning the incident?" Woolsey asked.

Rodney shook his head. "What local constabulary? We're not on Earth. We asked Sagro about it and he just laughed. I got the impression they weren't willing deal with us because we're outsiders. "

Woolsey looked downhearted. "It is sometimes hard to forget that other planets and cultures do not share our standards and laws." He sighed, "So where do we go from here? Accept the Colonel's death and be done with it?"

"No way!" The team almost shouted as one.

"All right, I got that message loud and clear. What do you suggest?"

"That we go back with a cloaked jumper and run a search pattern. If we're lucky we may pickup Sheppard's subcutaneous transmitter." Rodney suggested. "Although it won't be quite so easy if it's in deep water," he finished, but Rodney didn't want to think about that being a possibility.

"Very well, we can do that even if it only means retrieving the Colonel's body for a decent funeral. However, if it wasn't an accident, then we must proceed with the utmost care." Woolsey looked thoughtful. "Why in heavens name would anyone want to kill Sheppard?"

Rodney sighed inwardly. _For an ex-__advocate__ Woolsey sure was naive. _But for once, he didn't voice his opinion. "Who knows, maybe they were jealous of his hair." Nobody laughed at his attempt to lighten the mood. He immediately regretted opening his big mouth when Ronon gave him a look of pure disgust.

Teyla ignored him. "I believe the Colonel made many enemies along the way, and a small number of people still blamed him for waking the Wraith."

"That's a good point, Teyla. Therefore it wouldn't be a far stretch to say that this could have been a revenge attack. Not unlike the Coalition planned a few months back, only far more drastic."

"Yep," Ronon grunted, "but that action was against the whole team."

"I am well aware of that, Ronon, but let's suppose for a minute that someone decided to take their revenge against a single member. Unfortunately, Colonel Sheppard would be the most likely target. I'm not saying that's what's happened but I also agree that things just seem too orchestrated to simply be an accident. The Colonel just wasn't the type to carelessly fall overboard." Woolsey paused as if weighing up the consequences. "Either way, if he did fall into the sea, the chances of him still being alive are very slim but we owe it to him not to give up."

"As long as there's no body, I'm not giving up." Rodney stated, refusing to believe that yet another friend could possibly be lost forever. "He may have managed to pull off another miracle or he needs rescuing. Maybe they're holding him somewhere."

Woolsey nodded his agreement. "I think it's time to inform Major Lorne and his team but for now we will keep Sheppard's disappearance from the rest of the personnel until we know a little more. The Major can perform the search and we will go back to Mendora to do some investigation."

"We?"

"Yes, Doctor McKay, I will be accompanying you on your return but we will keep my identity a secret." Woolsey paused for a second and then asked. "What time is it currently in Mendora?"

"We left just before nightfall." Teyla answered.

"And the night is how long?"

Rodney answered quickly. "It's summertime, so equal to about five hours..."

"Very well, get some rest while the Major and his team go back and scan for Sheppard. We will convene in the gate room at 2300 hours, which should mean we arrive back in Mendora just before dawn. That is unless Major Lorne returns with anything different to report."

The team nodded and reluctantly agreed to rest. They left Woolsey's office with a heavy heart, knowing it would be difficult to sleep while John was out there either dead or in big trouble.

oOo

Brent quietly entered the small stone dwelling owned by Sagro, noting that it was almost as cluttered as his shop. He could hardly find a place to sit down when invited to.

"I hope you have my money?" The fat man asked.

Brent's thin face showed his anger. Reluctantly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pouch. He tossed it over to Sagro, who caught one handed it.

The merchant quickly pulled back the drawstring. "This is not the amount we agreed upon!"

"I will get you the rest when I contact the person who gave me the assignment. Although that could take a while to arrange." Brent said. It was really just a delaying tactic, as he no intention of giving the man any more. He quickly diverted the conversation by saying. "We should celebrate our success. It all went very smoothly and we did not have to use our backup plan. I am telling you, Sagro, the galaxy will be a better place for our action."

"Was he really that bad? Seemed a likeable enough man to me but it is too late now. No doubt a Trell will have had him for supper."

Thinking of the furious fish that terrorized the open sea, Brent winced before saying. "Believe me, he deserved nothing less. Do not forget he was responsible for waking the Wraith and bringing the wrath of the ones they call the Asurans upon us. My home planet was completely annihilated by those monsters." He paused, hoping that Sagro wouldn't ask him how he managed to escaped. Thankfully, the merchant didn't. "Also do not forget that if the people of Atlantis return, you must stick to your story, no matter what."

Sagro nodded. "You can depend on me."

"I sincerely hope so."

Sagro quickly showed Brent to the door, thankful to get the smell of fish out of his home. He scowled at the man's retreating back, disappointed and disgruntled as the money in the pouch didn't come anywhere near the amount he wanted. Meaning Brent had better cough up or else.

Unbeknown to them, several kilometres away the Stargate activated. To anyone watching it would almost have appeared as if nothing had passed through before it shut down again. Fortunately being so late at night, nobody was around to witness it, other than the creatures of the night.

oOo

"I'm telling you we need to increase the search area if we're going to find anything."

"I know that McKay! Seeing as you aren't even supposed to be here, I would appreciate a little less…" Major Lorne decided to leave the rest unsaid. It wasn't McKay's fault that he felt extremely shaken and distressed by his CO's possible demise.

Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, Sheppard's signal had failed to register anywhere over the mainland, or nearby islands. Even the shipping line had come up empty despite doing a series of extra flyovers near the area of the mist. Now Lorne intended to expand the search, taking into consideration the sea currents. Which the good doctor was about to work out for him.

Evan turned to the scientist. "Okay then, which way do the currents flow?"

Rodney sighed, loudly. "Already calculated. You need to head due south from this position."

Lorne didn't need to be told twice. He quickly changed course, taking them toward a small island some thirty kilometres away. They flew low over the dark sea, illuminated only by the jumper's twin lights and the silvery glow of a distant moon.

Suddenly, the HUD beeped causing all five occupants to nearly jump out of their skin. Rodney got his racing heart under control. Bent over his laptop, his fingers worked a tapping rhythm to adjust the settings to trance the extremely faint signal.

When the computer spewed out the result, his face turned a whiter shade of pale. Rodney tried to talk but his throat clamped up. He swallowed hard and eventually managed get some words past his tongue. "The signal is…coming from…from 80 metres under the sea." Nobody uttered a sound; they all knew the significance of that.

Lorne turned to look at him. "You're sure it's Sheppard's transmitter?" Rodney gave him a stricken look and nodded. "Okay then, let's take the jumper down and see what we can find." Lorne tried to stay calm but there was a detectable tremor in his voice.

They dived. The silence broken only by McKay's frantic tapping as he continued to hammer his keyboard, as if taking out his grief out on the hapless machine would help him. Then he suddenly announced. "It's moving. The signal's moving in a continuous circular motion. Covering an area about the size of a football field."

Lorne nodded, he'd already seen the reason why. Up ahead in the light of the twin beams, a deadly looking fish swam in a pattern Rodney had just described. From what he could see, it was about the size of a barracuda with a somewhat pointed snout. The fish swam towards them, exposing a row of prominent, razor sharp teeth in a threatening gesture. Lorne swallowed hard but edged the jumper closer, knowing that they were safe within the craft.

"That's it! We're nearly on top of it." Rodney announced. Then he made the mistake of looking up, "No, no, this can't right, the signal's coming...! Oh my god, that thing has…!" But he couldn't voice what everyone knew. The terrifying fish had more than likely eaten their commander and friend.

oOo

Mr. Woolsey was normally a very calm and patient man but right now he was wearing a hole in the docking bay floor, as he paced up and down waiting for the puddle jumper to arrive. The minute the Ancient vessel settled into its slot and the rear hatch opened, he swiftly moved inside. Woolsey's main objective was McKay. He was extremely annoyed with the scientist for leaving with Major Lorne without saying a word.

"Dr. McKay, I told you to…." Observing the grief stricken faces of the jumper's occupants, Richard Woolsey's words trailed off and his annoyance evaporated quicker than a drop of water on a hotplate. He swallowed hard before asking. "I take it the news is not good?"

Lorne shook his head as Rodney quietly answered, "The worst possible kind. I hate to think what his last moments may have been like. I only hope he was already dead."

"Then you found evidence that Colonel Sheppard is really…gone?"

Major Lorne answered this time. "Unfortunately, yes. There's no body to return because…," Evan paused to take a deep breath, "because he must have been attacked by the terrifying predatory fish we encountered. His transmitter was registering inside the creature."

Woolsey rubbed a hand across his forehead. "How's that possible? Are you absolutely sure?"

"The transmitters are built to withstand such conditions, at least for a day." Rodney stated. Unusually, he didn't add no more to that.

Lorne nodded. "We're hundred percent sure the fish got him. It was truly ghastly, just a mouth full of wicked, razor sharp teeth. I should think nothing could have escaped the thing once it latched onto its prey."

Woolsey looked really distressed. "This is a very sad day indeed," he murmured solemnly. He reminded silent for a minute, as if saying a prayer, before sighing and pulling himself together. Looking at his watch, he said. "Very well, I will go and inform the personnel. We will convene first thing in the morning to discuss our next move."

McKay was unwavering. "I still think he was murdered."

Woolsey nodded. "We will discuss that possibility when we convene, Dr. McKay. In the mean time, I think it only right that you inform Ronon and Teyla before I make a general announcement." Rodney looked like it was the last thing he wanted to do but he nodded and moved off.

Woolsey turned to the major. "I will have to inform the SGC at the earliest possible opportunity. They will probably want to send a replacement but I am going to recommend you for the post, Major."

Lorne didn't know what to say. He was honoured that Mr. Woolsey thought he was good enough but frankly, he didn't know if he was ready for such a responsibility. Evan hadn't minded sitting in for Sheppard when he had been away on Earth or whatever, but full time was something else entirely.

"Thank you, sir. But right now, I don't think I'm ready."

"That's all right, I understand. We will all need plenty of time to come to terms with Sheppard's loss. Nevertheless, I can think of no better man than you to take over as CO."

"Let me think about it."

"Yes, of course, there's no hurry. I think our first priority is to play detective, as I'm sure there are plenty of people who would like to see justice done, if indeed the Colonel was assassinated."

"He was a good man. You can rely on my help."

"Yes, he was." Woolsey had no more words to add, he simply nodded his thanks before leaving.

oOo

Rodney broke the news to Ronon and Teyla privately in the conference room shortly before Mr. Woolsey was due to make his announcement. Telling them was one of the hardest things Rodney had ever had to do, and it left him shaking and distressed.

Ronon's reaction was almost predictable. He slammed his fist onto the table so hard that Rodney was sure he must have broken it. Then he repeated the action, twice. However, his outburst didn't last long as he gave in to his grief.

Teyla remained quiet and dignified throughout, but her eyes gave it away as she fought back the tears, leaving Rodney with no doubt she would retreat to her room later and shed many for the good friend she had just lost.

Then they heard Mr. Woolsey break the news and a shockwave spread throughout Atlantis quicker than an atomic blast. No one could believe what Woolsey was telling them. _Colonel Sheppard was dead._ For many the news came as a total shock as the Colonel had been well liked and respected, but it was especially difficult for those who had served with him since the beginning. People like Dr. Zelenka who muttered a few choice words in Czech before retreating into his own sorrow.

TBC

_Is our Shep really dead? Find out in the next chapter. Please keep those reviews coming. Thanks. _


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The early morning mists had nearly cleared and the air temperature was already comfortably warm, meaning young Sev could set off on his daily routine to look for the shellfish that supplemented the family's food supply. Although barely in his teens, his mother and father relied on the boy's help to feed their family of seven.

Despite what some may consider tedious work, Sev was content with his life. As far as he was concerned, the island of Saratu was a wonderful place and he enjoyed searching among the seaweed for the odd minoca with its many pincers just waiting to inflict a painful pinch to an unsuspecting finger.

Up ahead, over the gutting rocks and beyond the little cove where his family lived, the white sands of Taru beach stretched as far as the eye could see. Sev didn't always venture there to gather food because the sands yielded little in the way of selfish or minoca, but when he and his friends had time to spare, then the beach was a great place for swimming and playing. However, as his basket wasn't very full this morning and the tide may have washed up the odd morsel onto the sands, Sev decided to make a quick trip over there before his other chores and schooling began.

The climb down wasn't difficult and Sev quickly clambered over the volcanic stone until the sands came into view. The boy automatically scanned the waterline to see if anything had been washed ashore. Shielding his eyes against the bright morning sunlight, Sev froze when he spotted a small flock of krawlan birds circling a dark object lying in the lapping waves. Sev scrambled down as quick as he could, thinking that the tide may have washed up some helpless creature. He didn't want to leave the poor thing to become food for the birds, if it was still alive.

The birds continued to circle, screeching their desire to feed. One descended, plummeting like a deadly dart, aiming to take a quick peck. A distant noise drove the dark feathered, vulture like bird back into the air with a flap of wings and a loud disgruntled squawk. The bird continued to circle menacingly, its large wingspan cast a shadow over its victim as if claiming the meal for itself. It tried to approach again but the noise, louder this time, kept it away. Eventually the bird gave up and flew higher to join the others.

When Sev finally reached the spot, they squawked their disapproval and flew off when his arm waving and loud shouts told their bird brains it was time to retreat. They wouldn't go far. The boy watched them go before turning to the object. To his surprised it wasn't a sea creature at all. It appeared to be a man dressed in black. He was lying partly on his side and each powerful wave nudged him a few more millimetres up the flat beach.

Putting down his basket_,_ Sev cautiously crept closer but not too near. He'd never seen a dead person before, he wasn't sure if he wanted to see one now. He covered his eyes, peeking between his fingers as he ventured just a little closer. But what if the man wasn't dead? With that thought in mind, Sev bravely lowered his hand. He began to inch forward only to suddenly freeze when he saw a slight movement in the man's ribcage. Meaning he was still breathing.

Sev quickly searched the tide line and found a long stick. He used it to poke the man in the side, but there wasn't any reaction or movement, indicating he was unconscious. Feeling more courageous, Sev knelt in the wet sand to peer at the stranger. He could see raggedy patches in the man's clothing, especially the left sleeve of his shirt. It was torn to shreds and horribly bloody. The boy screwed up his face. The sight was totally gross and turned his stomach.

He scrambled away, not sure what to do. Then his attention was drawn to the open sea when he heard the soft hooting of a sanki. Sev couldn't believe his eyes when he saw a whole group of the friendly, intelligent sea creatures swimming not far from the shore. A big smile lit his face as several dived out of the water to land with a massive splash. Suddenly Sev knew exactly what he had to do. If the Sanki thought the man worth saving, then it was up to him to make sure that's what happened. However, it left him with a bit of a dilemma because if he went for help, no doubt the birds would return.

The boy glanced at the man again. He didn't look so good. Another loud and long hoot drew his attention back to the sea and Sev quickly made up his mind to go. The Sanki would no doubt do their best to keep the birds away. Sev took one final glance at the man before picking up his basket and running off as fast as he could go.

oOo

_Pain_.Should he be feeling pain? Should he be feeling anything? Wasn't he supposed to be dead_? _He didn't feel dead. _Nobody should feel such pain in the hereafter._ Unless this was hell.

John's confused mind slowly registered the sound of a woman's soft murmuring followed be several, not so quiet, child pleas. Their noise made him realise that he wasn't in hell. Miraculously, he was still alive but from the amount of pain he was in and the overwhelming feeling of illness, he wondered for how long?

Yet despite feeling absolutely dreadful, John wasn't the type to give up that easily. He fought through his agony and the fogginess to open his eyes. The kindly face of a dark haired woman about his age came into focus.

She lifted a cool damp cloth to his forehead and smiled. "Rest easy, you are very sick. You will need all your strength to recover."

For the life of him, John couldn't find the energy to reply. He certainly knew the truth of her words as a shuddering tremble passed through his body and the agony increased. He had questions but they would have to wait until the pain eased enough to allow him to concentrate. Right now, he was finding it hard enough just to stay one-step away from oblivion. Deep down, he was afraid that if he gave in, he may never wake again. However, his body had other ideas. No matter how hard John fought to stay conscious, within a few minutes, he simply lost the battle and slipped into unconsciousness.

Nealia Mattie put down her cloth and sighed. She had done all she could for the stranger, the rest was up to him. Unfortunately his injuries were severe. Whether he would survive or not was doubtful. It was very frustrating and she wished that she could somehow get a doctor to him, but living on an isolated island meant that they had to rely on their own care. They had been fortunate to date, as none of her family had ever required anything other than a little tender loving care and her knowledge of the local plants that grew across their small island.

As for the stranger, she had carefully cleaned and covered his lacerations with her homemade ointment, but his arm wound was appalling. The flesh had been badly gouged, almost to the bone. Nealia could only guess that it had been made by a trell. She shuddered at the thought of the creature's serrated teeth that could tear the flesh off anyone unfortunate enough to become its prey. The fact that the man had escaped was a wonder, but Sev had told her about the Sanki and she understood. The sea creatures were reputed to be as intelligent as any human and their beautiful, sleek sliver bodies were perfectly adapted for life in the sea. They even had ambidextrous fins, so they must have saved the stranger from the trell, kept him warm and on the surface so that he wouldn't drown. Then they must have stayed with him until they could safely release him onto the shore. A miracle indeed, but Nealia began to wonder if their effort and protection had been for nothing. Apart from the wounds, a fever was developing and then there was the question of how much blood he may have lost.

Nealia sighed as she reached for his discarded clothing. The heavy vest hadn't dried out yet. It was made of a material that she had never seen before. She went about searching the multiple pockets of the strange garment, pulling out an array of objects. Some she could guess at their function, while others were a total mystery. One item appeared to be a medical pack. She could use the familiar looking bandages but the cream and tablets meant nothing to her as the writing was in a language she couldn't read. In another pocket she found enough coinage to feed her family for several days. The temptation to keep it was there but Nealia pushed it aside. Living on the island meant they didn't need coinage anymore.

She quickly gathered the money together with the other objects, taking them over to a high shelve to keep them safe from prying hands. The objects could be dangerous and she didn't want her children harmed. Unfortunately, she had no way of knowing that although the antibiotic and pain relief tablets were unsafe for her children, they could have helped the stranger overcome his infection.

Nealia returned to her patient's side and sat down. She turned to the low table next to the bed and spotted the strange chain she had removed from his neck earlier. Turning it over in her hands, she tried to make out the writing on the small metal tag but the only thing she understood was the name Sheppard, John. The numbers and other letters meant nothing to her and she had no idea why the chain held another smaller chain and tag, with exactly the same information on it. Without further thought, she carefully placed the chain back on the table.

oOo

Nealia soaked the cloth in cold water and squeezed it out before wiping her patient's sweat soaked body. She'd been cooling him now for longer than she could really spare but she was concerned that if she stopped, the stranger would simply die. Yet despite her fears, Nealia reluctantly put the cloth down as her husband and children needed feeding. Leaving the sick man in the small, poorly lit room, she quickly made her way to the kitchen.

Her husband Jaylen looked up from his work place, where was he attending to his fishing net. "How is he?"

Nealia whispered so that the children, especially Sev, couldn't hear her. "You had best find a plot to bury him. I do not believe he will last much longer."

"That is a shame. Young Sev was so sure he would survive."

Nealia went over to peel the vegetables and threw him a sad look. "I wonder where he comes from, as I do not think he is from the mainland."

Jaylen shook his head. "He could be a traveller who came through the Ring from another world. Maybe this is the punishment the Ancestors deem justified."

Nealia wasn't so sure about that but she nodded and went back to preparing the meal.

oOo

_Water, nothing but water, it stretched far into the distance. A surge smothered his head and John sank below the waves. His body relaxed when a wonderful display of colours filled his vision, only to be dispelled a while later by an incredible jolt of pain. The pain spread through his arm as a multitude of smooth salty bodies threatened to smother him. His feeble struggles were useless against them. All he wanted was for the colours to return but they wouldn't let him go. They wouldn't let him free to find the colours. _

He had to get free. He struggled and shouted. "Let me go! Let me go! Please…..nooooooo!"

Sheppard's scream sent Nealia rushing into the room, where he lay thrashing about on top of the bed, the covers entangled around his sweat soaked body. She grabbed his arms in an attempt to calm him but even in his weakened state, he was still too strong for her. Jaylen was one step behind. His powerful grip quickly had the delirious man under control.

A few minutes later, Sheppard slumped as deep unconsciousness reclaimed him and Jaylen was able to leave the room. Nealia sighed and quickly went about redressing the arm wound that had reopened during his struggles. It wasn't until she had finished that she realized Sev had been watching her.

"Is he going to die, ma?"

Nealia didn't want to lie to her son he was old enough to know the truth. "Unless the fever breaks, we will be burying him tomorrow."

The boy looked sad. The man meant nothing to him and yet he had been the one that had found him. Somehow, Sev felt the need to help this man survive. "Is there nothing we can do for his fever?"

His mother shook her head. "The wound in his arm has become very badly infected. I only know of one thing that may help and that is fennac kelp, but it is found only in the sea off the island of Tam and it is rarely washed ashore here. Even if I had some, it is difficult to handle and needs several hours to dry out before it can be pounded into a useful paste."

"But you could make the stuff if you had some?"

"Of course, Sev, but the chances of finding any…." His mother threw up her hands as if to say, astronomical.

The boy looked thoughtful, took one last look at the dying man and quietly left the room.

oOo

Less than an hour later, Sev ran into the room and carefully placed a bucket before his mother's feet. She looked down at it in surprise. "Oh my, where did you find that much fennac?"

The boy's face lit up with pride. "I spoke to the sanki and they fetched it."

"You spoke to the sanki?"

"Yes, ma. They are really intelligent."

Nealia looked at her son and smiled. "I know that. I only questioned it because they do not normally stay near our shoreline during the summer months."

Sev smiled. "Not usually, but I think they wanted to stay and see if the man gets better. The moment I told them he was very ill with fever and needed the special kelp, they swam off and found it."

Nealia turned to look at the sick man, he hadn't moved since his fevered outburst and she feared that he was steadily getting worse. "Well then, I had better prepare the fennac and hope that it does help. Will you keep him cool while I do it?"

Sev nodded, pleased to be doing something more for the stranger.

oOo

The atmosphere around the large conference table was, to say the least, extremely subdued. No one smiled, no one joked as each individual tried to come to terms of a future without the charismatic presence of John Sheppard. Many of them owed their lives to him. So without Sheppard and his uncanny ability to set things right, would they be so well protected? His driving force had been instrumental in the expedition's success. Much like Elizabeth Weir and several others now gone, so naturally everyone felt a little apprehensive about the future.

Rodney felt more than apprehensive, he still felt positively terrible. Empty, numb to the very core but some of his despondency stemmed from guilt. The way he had treated John in those final hours still played heavily on his mind. Although Rodney had enjoyed nothing better than sending snarky comments John's way, his behaviour on that fateful day had been hurtful, brusque and totally unreasonable. And for the life of him, he couldn't remember why?

The question kept turning repeatedly in his overactive brain and he was so distracted by it that Jennifer Keller had to squeeze his arm to draw his attention to the fact that Mr. Woolsey had entered the room.

The man in question cleared his throat before taking his seat at the head of the table. Woolsey then opened the folder before him. He gave an audible sigh and said. "So where do we proceed from here." It really wasn't a question, as he didn't wait for anyone's opinion before carrying on. "I have just been in touch with the SGC. They sent their condolences but advised me to use the utmost caution concerning our belief that Colonel Sheppard was murdered. They don't want us making anymore enemies over this matter."

Ronon stood up so swiftly that his chair fell over with a loud clang. He positively growled with anger. "I don't care. I'm going back to find Sheppard's killers."

"I didn't say I agreed with their judgment, Ronon. In fact, if you all concur, I still want to go to Mendora at the earliest possible opportunity and conduct an investigation…," Woolsey suddenly stopped and asked, "Did you just say killers?"

"Yeah. It would have taken more than one man to overpower Sheppard, even in a weakened state. And I'm sure Sagro is one of them."

Woolsey nodded in agreement. "Yes…it would have and that is why we need to use utmost caution when investigating." He sighed again. "You know, I'm sure John would not want any of you injured or killed over this matter, so you mustn't go around accusing anyone of murder unless you have…absolute proof." He flashed a stern look in Ronon's direction. The Satedan didn't even flinch as he picked up his chair and sat back down.

The meeting then turned to a general discussion concerning the best course of action. By now, it was well into Mendora's shorter day. Meaning it was already late afternoon there. So it was agreed that they would wait until the following day, Mendorian time, before proceeding. Sheppard's team along with Woolsey would confront Sagro while Major Lorne and his team, dressed as locals, did some Intel gathering.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The stranger muttered again, fighting whatever demons his delirious mind created. He often murmured names and Nealia began to wonder if they were family, as his concern for them was obvious.

She reached over and felt his forehead, feeling no change. His fever was still very high and showed no sign of breaking. Yet without the aid of a measuring instrument it was difficult to tell for sure. Nealia didn't have one of those as the one she'd had broke about year ago with no chance of replacing it.

The hot summer's day had turned to evening and the air was definitely cooler to the little room. It should have aided in reducing his fever but it hadn't. Several hours ago, she had packed his wound with the fennac pulp in the hope of drawing out the infection. That didn't seem to be helping either.

The man cried out again, his breathing was now extremely swallow and laboured. Nealia was at a loss as to what to do next. She stood up and slowly backed away from the bed, not sure whether she wanted to stay and watch him die. Her eyes suddenly focused on the shelf were she'd placed his belongings earlier. The small medical pack sat on top of the pile, on impulse she reached for it. What if he required the pills to keep him well? Carefully studying the writing on the two packages, it still meant nothing to her and although she had never seen tablets quite like them before, instinct told her that only one or two should be given at one time. But should she give them to him at all?

As if to answer, John's laboured breathing faltered for a second and he cried out in pain. Nealia quickly made up her mind. He was dying, so there really wasn't anything to lose by giving him some. Playing it safe, she only removed one tablet from each package. Getting them into him was going to be another matter.

Lifting his head, she placed the first tablet between his lips and spooned in some water. She could feel his fevered heat radiating through her arm as she coaxed him to swallow the tablet. He spluttered and nearly choked on it. Nealia smoothed and calmed him like one of her children, before repeating the procedure. Some of the water didn't go down but Nealia was fairly certain that the tablets had. She gently eased his head back onto the pillow and hoped for the best.

Nealia continued to cool him for quite a while until the creaking of the door announced her husband's entry.

"I hope you are not planning on spending the whole night with him?" Jaylen complained bitterly.

"Someone must watch over him."

"Nealia, you have spent most of the day here and have neglected the children. I have just given them supper but they need their mother to put them to bed."

His attitude suddenly annoyed her. Jaylen was a good man but occasionally a jealous streak flawed his personality. He was resentful now of the time she had spent caring for the stranger and not because of the children. They knew well enough how to entertain themselves.

"I will see to their bedtime in a moment but then I intend to return here, at least until his fever has broken." Or dies, she left unspoken. But that was something Nealia didn't like to think about. Even though he was a total stranger to her, she somehow felt a definite commitment towards him.

Jaylen didn't feel quite the same and he looked none too pleased. "You will wear yourself out and for a man you know nothing of. For all you know he could be a murderer."

"Sev is positive he is worth saving because the sanki would not have helped him if they thought him bad."

"And how would they know?"

"They have a keen sense for these things and you know that, Jaylen." Nealia left it at that before she said something she might regret. Cooling her patient's brow one final time, she quickly left his side to attend to her children.

Jaylen watched his wife go and sighed. "You had better be worth saving Sheppard John," he muttered, before picking up the cloth and carrying on where Nealia had left off.

oOo

Darkness haunted the small, stonewalled cottage and the wind picked up to a light gale. Which could mean a late summer storm was on its way. One of the planets two moons shone brightly overhead. Shadows played across the room from the curtain free window to flicker over the prone figure of the restless man. His breathing was still laboured and from time to time it would hitch, leaving Nealia wondering if it was his last. But the stranger was a fighter and he held on to life with an amount of resilience others would have lost hours ago.

His words came again, different ones this time. Something about the Wraith, Nealia shuddered to think that he might have encountered those terrifying beings. The muttering suddenly rose in volume and his body trembled as if caught in a fit. Nealia tried to calm him, but whatever nightmare he was reliving had him in its grip.

It ended as quickly as it had started when his body suddenly slumped, almost melting into the thin mattress. But from the shallow rise and fall of his chest, Nealia could see that he was still breathing. She placed the back of her hand against his brow, finding it cooler than expected. A loud sigh of relief escaped her lips. She sat back to ease her shoulders. This could be a turning point. His fever definitely seemed a little lower. He wasn't out of danger yet, but now there was some hope.

Rubbing her gritty eyes, Nealia knew she was tired beyond words. In a matter of hours she had to face another day. So she stood up and wearily left the room to sleep in her own bed, hoping the stranger would be still alive come sunup.

oOo

Early morning, hazy sunshine filtered into the little room to fall directly onto John's face. He groaned and tried to move away from the offending brightness. The action brought him closer to awareness but not fully.

In due course, after another short period of sleep, he managed to open his eyes to see a low ceiling with dark rough wooden beams. The bed he was lying on felt uncomfortably firm under his sore back but the way he felt right now, with so many other aches and pains, it really didn't matter.

John vaguely remembered waking up before to the face of a kind looking woman. She didn't seem to be anywhere in sight, which was unfortunate because he felt extremely thirsty. His parched mouth was as dry as a desert and his tongue seemed to be glued to the roof of his mouth.

He turned his head and spotted a water jug and a glass sitting on the low side table next to the bed. The water called to him like a siren song and he made an effort to reach for it. Big mistake. The attempt ended in an agonizing cry as a deep, knife edged, fiery pain shot through his left arm. He slumped back onto the bed, breathing deeply until the pain eased and the ceiling came back into focus. That had been a foolish move but for the life of him, John couldn't remember why his arm felt like someone had taken an axe to it.

The jug still enticed. It wasn't far away but it might as well be on the other side of the planet. He closed his eyes and drifted, maybe if he let go for a while someone would be here the next time he woke.

In the next instance, he felt the edge of a spoon against his lips and cool water trickle into his mouth. He swallowed the welcome moisture greedily and opened his eyes to see the face of a boy no more than thirteen years of age.

The kid grinned down at him. "Saw you trying to reach for the water. My ma is still asleep but she should be up soon. I will look after you until then. Guess your fever must have dropped a bit. Do you want some more water?"

The boy rattled the words without a pause and if John had been stronger, he would have chuckled. The kid sounded just like McKay. As it was, he was finding it difficult just staying awake. He nodded and the boy dutifully spooned more water between his cracked lips. John accepted a few more spoonfuls but darkness reached out for him and he let it come.

Sev watched the stranger lose consciousness and began to wonder if he had done the right thing by giving the man some water. No, it was okay because he remembered his ma getting plenty of water down his little sister when she had suffered a fever a few months back.

He glanced out of the window and, although the sun was still shining, it wouldn't be for much longer. Sev had already been outside and had seen storm clouds gathering. He knew they were heading their way, so he wouldn't be venturing onto the rocks today. With nothing else to do, he settled back to watch over the sleeping man. At least until his ma arrived.

oOo

"Oh wonderful, just what we need." McKay muttered, as he stepped out of the jumper into a muddy puddle.

Ronon passed by him and muttered. "A little rain won't hurt you." There wasn't a trace of humour in his voice.

Mr. Woolsey glanced up at the grey clouds. "I should have brought my umbrella. Oh well, as Ronon said, a little rain won't hurt us." Before leaving, he turned to Major Lorne. "We will keep in touch via radio."

The major nodded and waited for his team to disembark before securing the hatch and cloaking the jumper.

The market hall was far less crowded then the team remembered, probably due to the foul weather. They quickly reached Sagro's storefront and Ronon immediately moved in front of his companions with the intention of going in first.

Woolsey threw him a disparaging look and laid a restraining hand on his arm. "I thought we agreed to do this diplomatically. Just leave it to me. I wasn't an appellate advocate for nothing."

Ronon growled. "Yeah, so you keep telling us, even if I don't know what that is." Woolsey didn't explain.

Rodney rolled his eyes much like John used to do before adding. "Let Mr. Woolsey deal with it, Ronon."

Ronon still didn't move.

Seeing Rodney's gesture, Teyla had to gulp back a tear. "Ronon, please do as Mr. Woolsey suggests. I believe we will stand a better chance of apprehending John's killers that way." Teyla's words seemed to calm the big man more than the others had. He suddenly relinquished and moved aside, allowing Woolsey to enter first.

Sagro was sitting in his little alcove admiring the fine workmanship of the item that Brent had given him just forty minutes before as part of his payment due. He hadn't been too pleased about it because the item would be difficult to sell. However, he'd relented when Brent promised to pay up the rest in a few weeks time.

Hearing the little bell marking someone's entry, Sagro carefully put the item down and stepped out from behind the curtain that cordoned off his private alcove. His face fell when he saw who it was. "Oh…good people of Atlantis, I did not expect to see you again!"

"Why ever not? Did you really expect us to take Colonel Sheppard's unfortunate drowning so lightly?" Woolsey asked.

"No, no of course not, and you are?"

"I was a good friend of John's and I'm here to investigate his ill-fated accident. To try and understand how such a thing could have happened."

Sagro coughed, a little too loudly. "Oh…there...there really is nothing to investigate, Mister…err?"

Woolsey didn't supply a name. "I beg to differ. You see Colonel Sheppard just wasn't the type to carelessly fall overboard, even when incapacitate by seasickness. Another strange occurrence as our chief medical officer assured me that Colonel Sheppard suffered from no such problem. And according to his team, the sea was very calm that day. Making the whole seasickness story even more unlikely."

By now, Sagro looked very uncomfortable. "Then it must have been food poisoning," he stammered.

Ronon growled and made to move. Woolsey threw him a warning look. Thankfully the Satedan backed down.

"Maybe it was but whatever, it would not have incapacitated a man such as the colonel." Woolsey moved a little closer to the merchant. "Let me give you an example. A while back even though he was very badly injured after being impaled by a metal rebar, Colonel Sheppard managed to rescue Teyla and her newborn son from the clutches of a very powerful, evil being." Woolsey let that sink in before continuing. "So apart from investigating his death, we feel sure that the colonel would still want us to benefit from the Ancestral artefact you have in your procession. Therefore, if we could travel to the island I am sure Dr. McKay would be only too pleased to inspect the artefact as previously agreed upon."

They didn't think anyone could turn as white as Sagro did in that second. But he surprised them by quickly regaining his composure. "I am afraid that is no longer possible."

Woolsey remained calm, the picture of poise. "May I ask why not?"

"I…err…the guardians are no longer willing to allow it."

Woolsey shook his head. "I find that hard to believe. After all, according to these good people, you were more than willing to let them to see it the other day. Surely the little accident involving Colonel Sheppard couldn't have made such a big difference or is it because the artefact never existed in the first place?"

Sagro spluttered loudly, setting his belly wobbling. "Of course it exists but as I said before, we are no longer willing to let you have it."

"We never said anything about wanting to have it. We only want to let Dr. McKay inspect it."

Sagro nerves started to show big time as he continually rubbed his hands together. But despite his unease, he remained adamant. "I am very sorry but we have changed our minds. It has something to do with the…err…curse old woman Demaris put upon your colonel. The guardians trust her wisdom above all else. And as she must have had a very good reason to condemn your friend, we feel that we can no longer trust anyone from Atlantis."

It was a load of bull shit and they knew it. The man was hiding something for sure. Woolsey looked to the others before saying. "We are truly sorry you feel that way. Despite what you may think, we can be trusted and Colonel Sheppard was a good man. I don't know why this Demaris person felt it necessary to put a curse on him."

In the next instant, Woolsey steered the man to one side and began relating some of Sheppard's humanitarian and life saving missions.

Sagro listened for a while until the team heard him protest. "But the man was responsible for waking the Wraith!"

Woolsey sighed. "Now where did you get that information? Yes, he did accidentally wake the Wraith during a rescue mission, to save among others, Teyla here," he gestured toward her, "At the time he certainly didn't know that the Wraith would react the way they did."

Sagro felt his gut twist. So his instinct had been right, Sheppard had been a good man and he was partially responsible for his death. Despite that knowledge, he would have to live with it and keep his mouth shut. "That is maybe the case, but Demaris had her reasons. I am truly sorry but there is nothing I can do, the guardians have made up their minds."

Ronon stepped a little closer. However, another stern look from Woolsey prevented him from taking any action. They had no proof.

Although before they left, Rodney needed to get in his two cents' worth. "That's a pity. Tell me, why did you leave so quickly when we got on-board and where did you disappear to?"

Sagro answered immediately, he'd been anticipating that question. "I am a personal friend of the captain's and I went to the bridge to speak to him. Now if you would be so kind as to leave, I have a business to attend to." He silently prayed that they wouldn't speak to the captain, as he had only spent a short time on the bridge before joining Brent and the others.

Woolsey moved away. "Very well, Mister Sagro, we will have to leave it at that for the moment. Now could you tell us where we may find this Demaris person?"

"You are not thinking of confronting her are you?"

"We just want to ask her why she found it necessary to curse Sheppard."

Sagro laughed nervously. "You will only incur her anger."

"That's for us to worry about. Now where is she?"

"She could be in the market hall or at her home near the town centre." Sagro looked at them nervously before scribbling the location on a small piece of paper. "Please do not tell her that I was the one to give you directions. I value my life far too much for that." Woolsey nodded his assurance.

They found Demaris in her home but the disagreeable old woman was of little help to them, claiming that she had cursed Sheppard because she had sensed the true evil in his aura. Nothing Woolsey or the others said could change her mind. She stated that the spirits had deemed him guilty and now Sheppard was rotting in their version of hell.

So being no further with their investigation, they decided to go back to the market area and pay Marta's eatery a visit.

"No one has ever become sick after eating my food!" Marta proclaimed loudly upon hearing the circumstances surrounding Sheppard's unfortunate accident. "I keep a very clean kitchen. You can inspect it if you want."

Teyla moved forward in an attempt to calm the eatery owner after Woolsey's less than diplomatic handling of the matter. Woolsey may have been an advocate, whatever, but he wasn't very good when it came to dealing with over sensitive women. "We are not implying that it had anything to do with your standard of hygiene. What my friend here is trying to say, did anyone come into the kitchen while you were preparing our food?"

Marta huffed. "I am sorry if I misunderstood his meaning but I am very sensitive when it comes to complaints about my cooking. As to your question…." Marta thought about it very hard. Should she tell them or keep her mouth shut. After all, Demaris now claimed that the evil one was dead. However, had the fine looking, dark haired man been so evil? Marta had her doubts, so she took a risk. "My serving girl is very friendly with one of the local boys. She let him into the kitchen that day even though she knows I do not allow it."

"And the boy's name?" Teyla asked before the others got a chance.

"Turk Brent. His father is a fisherman or at least he claims to be. Troublemakers, both of them. No one likes them very much."

"Really, why's that?" asked Rodney.

"I am not prejudice or anything, but he and his son turned up from nowhere about a year ago. They claimed to be refugees. If they needed help, then they would have got it but the first thing he does is try to charge top price for fish he caught days before. Thank goodness I have good sense and a nose for such things. He still catches fish but he has been forced to sell them to the market dealers just like anyone else. As for his son, he is a little pickpocket and steels whatever he can. At least most people think so because there has been an increase in theft since he arrived, especially in the market hall."

Woolsey glanced at his companions before asking. "Do you know what planet they came from?"

Marta shook her head. "Brent never told us. Just said it was destroyed by some powerful race or whatever. We all assumed he meant the Wraith, but he said not."

"Could you give us the man's full name and where we can locate him?"

Marta checked outside the door. Although she had taken her visitors into a small back office, she wanted to make sure her serving girl was nowhere around. "His name is Drey Brent," she whispered, "He lives on his boat, which is anchored in the small inner harbour. Not the one the ferry leaves from."

"Has the boat got a name?"

Marta shook her head. "Not that I know of. If you find him, please do not mention my name."

Teyla laid her hand on Marta's arm. "Do not worry you can trust us. We will keep this conversation just between us and thank you very much for your help."

"You are most welcome." Marta hesitated for a moment. "I am truly sorry about your friend." The team nodded sadly before leaving via the rear door.

They moved well away from the eatery before Woolsey stopped and turned to his colleagues. "It looks like we may have another suspect but the question is, what motive did this person have?"

Ronon shrugged. "Let's go find him and ask."

Rodney sighed. "If only it was that simple."

"We need to be very careful for Marta's sake." Teyla cautioned. "She took a big chance telling us about the boy."

Woolsey nodded. "I agree. I know you want to comfort the man, Ronon, but he is unlikely to divulge any information to us." Woolsey paused for a second. "After a bit of thought, I don't think we should interact with him at all at this stage because I suspect he is not working alone. I am going to suggest that we return to Atlantis for now. We'll send some replacements for the major and his team. They can do some undercover work while posing as traders or whatever. Hopefully they will turn up the information we need. I will also be asking around our allies to see if anyone has any useful information concerning this man Brent."

Sheppard's team didn't like it but they reluctantly agreed. Besides, there was the matter of John's memorial service to organize.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Waves crashed onto the rocks, spreading spray high into the air in an attempt to reach the small stone dwelling nestled in the arms of the land. It was a fruitless attempt as even the worst of the winter storms failed to bring the dwelling down. The relentless summer storm had battered the small island for a day now and showed no signs of abating.

John woke to the sound of the howling wind. He blinked several times to clear the glue that seemed to have stuck his eyelids together. When his vision cleared enough, the same low beamed ceiling stared back at him. He vaguely remembered waking several times before. Although this time he felt marginally better even though the pain in his arm was still relentless.

He heard a rustle and turned his head to investigate only to be confronted by a pair of small hands holding up a scribbled picture of a matchstick man lying on a bed. She'd even drawn his spiky hair.

"You like it?" Her high pitched voiced asked.

John didn't know if he could find his voice to reply. He swallowed and tried to moisten his dry lips. His 'yes' came out more of a croak. The little girl giggled loudly, drawing the attention of her mother.

Nealia rushed into the room and shooed the child out. "I am sorry about that. I was busy and she must have slipped into the room unnoticed."

John gave her a small smile and attempted to form some words. "It's…OK. Where...am…I?"

Nealia gave him a spoonful of water, which he readily accepted before answering his question. "On the island of Saratu. My son found you washed up on Taru beach. Do you remember what happened?"

John searched his muddled memories but right now the energy of just breathing kept him busy. He also felt extremely drowsy and hot. He simply shook his head.

Nealia gently smiled. "You had a very high fever. It is better but I suspect not entirely gone." She paused for a minute. "I do not know if I did the right thing but I found several medicines in your clothing. I gave you one of each tablet."

"How long ago?" John managed to ask, it was important. He wasn't angry with her, as her actions had probably saved his life.

Nealia looked a little worried. "That was yesterday already. Did I do something wrong?"

John tried to work it out. The days on Alesis were shorter. He still needed to continue the antibiotics if they were going to help at all. And a couple of painkillers sounded like heaven right now. "No...you did just fine, but…I'll need…to take more. One white tablet and two of the red ones."

Nealia reached for the packs, took out the tablets and showed him. Making sure they were the right ones.

John nodded and gratefully accepted her help to get them down him with a few spoonfuls of water. He gave his thanks before settling back on the pillow. In a matter of minutes, he was fast asleep.

Nealia watched him for a while and smiled. Now she was sure he would survive. Before leaving, she bustled around making sure that he was well covered against the drafts from the ill-fitting window. She didn't want him to get a lung infection on top of everything else.

oOo

The day before John's memorial service, the team arranged to meet in his quarters to start the painful task of clearing away five years worth of personal belongings and mementos.

Unlike the time they had lost the first Carson, Rodney just didn't want to do the task alone. Teyla felt the same, unable to face yet another clear-up. So they arranged to meet up in John's quarters and do it together.

Teyla arrived at the allotted time to find neither of her companions already there. She nearly walked away not wishing to enter the silent quarters alone. But that was stupid. Whether she faced it alone or with the others wouldn't make much difference, so she gathered her courage and entered.

John's things were exactly how he had left them that fateful morning of the mission. Bed neatly made and clothes tidied away. Teyla swallowed hard as she moved over to the low laying chest of drawers with the intention of taking out the clothing to stack on the bed. Then a picture caught her eye, the one of young John with Evel Knievel. John had told her that meeting his childhood hero had been one of the happiest days of his life.

The tears suddenly came. Tears she hadn't been able to fully shed. Somehow the whole reality hadn't sunk in until now, the realization that John was gone for good. That she would never see his bright optimistic smile, ever again. Never witness his strength of purpose to see them through whatever crisis. Never hear him laugh or see the pleasure on his face while watching his favourite college football team. It just seemed so unfair. John should not have died the way he did and the more she thought about it, the more it broke her heart.

And with that realization came the need to let go. Sinking onto the bed, she sobbed her heart out. That's how Rodney and Ronon found her a few minutes later.

Stunned, Ronon immediately moved over to comfort her. Holding her tightly and rocking her in his large arms. Rodney wasn't sure what to do. He ended up sitting next to her and gently holding her hand, giving comfort in his own awkward way. His eyes weren't exactly moisture free and Rodney suspected that the big guy's weren't either.

Locked in their pain, the team finally realized that things could never be the same again. Although they had each other, the soul, the very thread that had kept them together, was forever gone .

oOo

John woke many hours later to a very uncomfortable feeling, not the pain in his arm, which was sharp and ever present, but a pressure in his lower body. When his mind finally worked out what was causing it, he realized that he needed to take a leak, desperately. Carefully lifting his head he was disappointed to find the room empty. He tried calling out a few times but no one came. It dawned on him that he didn't even know their names.

Eventually the discomfort drove him to struggle upright, as he really couldn't hold on much longer and he hadn't wet the bed since he was three.

The room whirled alarmingly but settled after a short rest. The biggest huddle would be actually standing up. It took several tries before his legs finally took his weight. When the bedding fell away, John realized he had nothing on other than his boxers. Gingerly, he reached for a blanket. Wrapping it loosely around his shoulders before staggering toward the door. His steps were uncoordinated and he nearly rammed into the door frame before stumbling into a dimly lit corridor.

The house seemed awfully quiet making John wondered if anyone was home. In his haste, he hadn't even registered whether it was day or night. He continued to stagger along the corridor from one door to the next but none yielded the much needed bathroom. He finally arrived at the last door, nearly falling through it when he lost his footing on a small mat. No bathroom, it simply led into a kitchen area and beyond that, John could see a door leading to the great outside.

With an effort, he somehow made it across the kitchen to tumble into a small courtyard. Daylight greeted him and the fresh sea breeze slapped his face. It played with his greasy, lifeless hair, which had been flattened from lying in bed for too long. Apart from the spiky bits, they never gave up their fight against gravity.

It was drizzling but the need to pee overrode everything. There was still no sign of the family, so John stumbled to the nearest garden bush and relieved himself.

Somehow he managed to make it back into the house, rain soaked and shivering. Getting back to the bedroom was another matter entirely. John stumbled to the nearest chair and slumped onto it. He pulled the damp blanket as tightly as he could around his shoulders, avoiding his left arm at all cost. He sat huddled until the shivers stopped. He raised a hand to his face, a quick rub revealed stubble of several days' beard growth. Leaving John to wonder just how long he'd been here. And where were his team and why hadn't they come for him? John didn't like implications of that. Even if his assailants had been untruthful and had somehow defeated his team, Atlantis should have sent help for them. So what was going on?

"What are you doing here, Sheppard John?"

Deep in thought, John nearly jumped out of his skin, not having realized he was no longer alone. Getting his heart back under control, he looked up into the worried face of the woman who had cared for him. "I was trying to find the bathroom."

Nealia looked a little guilty. "I am so sorry but I thought you would stay asleep. I left a container near the bed for such things. You must have failed to see it."

John sighed. If only he'd used his eyes, he would have saved himself a lot of pain and hassle.

Nealia didn't bother to ask if he still needed the bathroom because it was obvious he'd already been outside. "I thought you were well enough to leave alone for a short period. You see this is our day of prayer and all islanders must gather to worship." The woman then turned to someone beyond John's vision and the next thing he knew, the damp blanket was replaced with a warm, dry one. It felt like heaven against his chilled skin.

John nodded his thanks and looked around the homespun kitchen with its simple wooden furniture and wood burning stove, thinking - _Oh great, I've landed in the Pegasus version of the Amish people just like Harrison Ford's character John Book in Witness..._

Nealia interrupted his thoughts. "Now we must help you back to your bed."

John shook his head, partly because he couldn't muster up the strength to move right now and it was strangely comfortable here. He also had a few questions to ask her. "Just give me a few minutes. You said you found me on the beach?"

The woman answered while busying over the stove. "Sev found you. It has been four days now. You were very ill for a while and we thought you were going to die."

_Yep, John Book nearly died, too._ John gave her a weary smile. "But thanks to you I didn't. It only seems right that I know your name?"

The woman turned to him. "My name is Nealia and my husband is Jaylen. We have five children, Sev, Marie, Tami, Artie and the little one Kerrie. Is that not good, Sheppard John?"

John didn't really know what to say to that. Maybe having so many kids was part of their religion. He simply nodded. "It's John Sheppard but please call me John."

"Oh. On your strange necklace it is written Sheppard John?"

"That's because the family name comes first on an ID tag."

"Oh." Nealia repeated as she moved over to place a hot cup of something near his chair. John looked at it warily, hoping it wasn't like the horse piss that John Book had endured.

Nealia smiled at him. "Let it cool for a minute and then try to drink as much as you can. It is made from herbs that will help to heal and smooth your pain."

"Thank you," John whispered. He was beginning to really flag now but he didn't feel like going back to the dark and lonely room. His eyes drooped and the next thing he knew, a man was attempting to pick him up.

"I'm okay. Let me stay until I've drunk the tea."

"Then you had better hurry as it is nearly cold." The man, who John presumed was Jaylen, placed the cup in his right hand. John took a tentative sip. It wasn't too bad but it could never replace a good cup of coffee. On the other hand it was probably doing him far more good.

"When you have finished the tea, I will help you back to bed."

Although John would have liked to talk some more, it would have to wait until his strength returned. "Sounds like a good plan to me, Jaylen."

Jaylen looked at him strangely and simply nodded.

oOo

The days slipped by and much to Lorne's disappointed, the assigned team failed to turn up anything that could incriminate the suspect murders.

The SGC had turned down Woolsey's recommendation, stating that Major Lorne wasn't experienced enough. In a way, Evan had been relieved. He would continue run the base until a suitable replacement could be found, and then he would be put in charge of John's team. Although Evan wasn't so sure the team would stay together.

Ronon was restless. His main reason for staying on Atlantis was gone. John had been more than just a commander to him and the Satedan missed his friend greatly. When the right opportunity arrived, he planned to leave in order to continue his pledge to rid the galaxy of the Wraith. He also wanted to go after John's killers and was frustrated with the way Woolsey was conducting the investigation.

In his grief Rodney had turned to his science, catching up on all the unessential work he'd neglected over the years. He liked off-world missions, at least the ones that didn't go south, but they could never be the same again. Not without Sheppard by his side.

After her outburst in John's quarters, Teyla came to terms with her grief. Yes, she was still very sad and missed John's companionship but life must go on and she had her family to consider. She planned serve under Evan for as long as possible as her people still needed protection against the Wraith. Then there was the off chance that Michael was still alive. She wouldn't rest easy until he had been dealt with.

oOo

John stared down at his arm as Nealia changed his dressing, wondering what the heck had happened to it and why it was covered in some greenish gunk. Although it was healing, the tenderness and pain still troubled him.

Nealia looked at his concerned face. "You were lucky that it did not break an important blood vessel. It mainly took muscle."

John threw her a confused look. "What was it?"

"We believe you were attacked by a trell. It's a very aggressive fish that eats anything it can get hold of. Do you remember what happened to you?"

A vague snatch of a dream came to mind, but was it a dream or reality. John remembered sinking below the waves but after that was a blank.

If John had been conscious, he would have witnessed a mini battle for his life.

_A lonely sanki leaped and dived in the wake of the ferry, it was a game she loved play. During an underwater plunge, a distant splash reached her sensitive ears and thanks to her exceptional navigation skills, the sanki was able to quickly locate the source. One of the land creatures known as humans swam feebly in the vast sea with no hope of reaching the moving land. _

_The sanki swam closer, eyeing the human from all angles; she knew it was male. He didn't seem to notice her sleek silver body as she circled. Eventually, the human started to stink and the sanki knew she had to stop the descent or the human would drown. The sanki dived and accidentally nudged a leg before swimming under the human's lower back. With a powerful thrust, she made it back to the surface but the human wasn't moving anymore. Thankfully, there was still movement in his lungs. The sanki knew she needed help to keep him alive, so she sent out a long and powerful series of hoots, which travelled easily through the water. Unfortunately, the sound also attracted a nearby trell on the prowl for an easy meal. _

_The sanki continually nudged the human, keeping him face up and on the surface. It was hard work, made harder still by the arrival of the trell. It swam menacingly close. _

_She could have abandoned the human to the living nightmare but it wasn't within her nature. She also sensed that he was special as the blood of the Ancient ones followed through his veins. She did not question why the human was in the water only that he needed to be saved. _

_However, the trell did not feel the same way. It needed a meal and a half-dead human would fit the bill nicely. It attacked, tearing at the tasteless skin that covered the prey. _

_Although young, the sanki didn't panic. She thrashed the fish as hard she could with her tail, sending it flying through the air. She turned back to find that in the short time she had spent to defend him, the human had started to sink again. A hasty nudge quickly sent him back to the surface. _

_The trell wasn't finished. Despite the bruising blow it wasn't about to lose its prey. Once again it dived in for the attack, this time drawing blood as its teeth raked across a leg. The sanki defended with the same tactic, sending the fish flying amid a fountain of water. And so the battle began. It went on for several minutes, each time the trell got a little closer, trying to get a nibble here and nibble there. _

_The sanki was tiring and the trell instinctively knew it. It stepped up its attacks hoping to drive the bulkier creature away. The relentless attack went on until the trell sensed the approach of other sanki. Instinct told it the battle was lost, so in a last desperate bid to get a piece of the prey, it exposed its deadly inner teeth and lunged for an outer limb. The sanki moved quickly to intercept and succeeded in partially blocking the attack. The trell struck again, managing to tear off a small portion before swimming off._

_When the pod arrived, the young sanki_ _readily relinquished the human to their care. The human now sported several injuries, although none was currently life threatening._ _Despite that they instinctively knew that the human needed to be warmed. Gathering together, they pressed their bodies cocoon-like around him, giving off their warmth for quite a time until they were satisfied that his body temperature was a little higher. It hadn't been the first time they had done this for one of the land creatures._ _The human still bled in several places but there was nothing they could do about it other than get him to the nearest land. So they started swimming for Saratu Island and humans there that would take care of him. _

_It was dark by the time they reached the island. Although the air still held the warmth of a summer's day. All the Sanki could do was nudge the human onto the beach and keep guard hoping that he would live through the hours of darkness before dawn. _

Although John didn't recall any of that other then in his dreams, he certainly remembered the attack on the ferry but felt it wise to keep it that to himself for now. He ended up telling Nealia a half-truth. "I was on the ferry that goes to…err…Tam something…"

"Tamoray."

"Yeah that's it. Anyway I felt ill, so I went to the upper deck. I must have lent over too far because the next thing I knew, I was in the drink. After that?" He shrugged and winched a second later, having forgotten all about his bad arm thanks to Nealia's strange gunk, which had a pleasant numbing effect.

She looked at him, confused. "You have a different way of talking, John. Where do you come from?"

John contemplated telling her the truth but sometimes it caused an undesirable reaction and he certainly didn't want to upset his caregivers at this stage. "I came through the Stargate to trade."

"Stargate?"

John often forgot that most people didn't understand the earthy term. "The Ring of the Ancestors."

"The Ancestors be praised." Nealia immediately responded, making John inwardly sigh. So they worshipped the Ancients. He glanced at her, she looked none too pleased. "We believe that humans should not use the Ring, although many do out of ignorance. Most come from other worlds like yourself, but not always. Over the years, we have had many disputes concerning the Ring. Many people who live in Mendora do not share our views. We grew tired of the hatred and persecution, especially the wicked acts of the old witch called Demaris. After she poisoned Kaylen's brother with one of her potions, a small group of us broke away and came to live on this island. We intend never to return."

John swallowed hard, so the old bag wasn't so harmless after all. He was probably lucky to have survived her powder or whatever. Of course, he couldn't tell Nealia about that without telling her the rest. And although he'd come across a few wacky Ancestor worshippers in his time, ones that openly condemned gate travel, now that was a first. "May I ask why it's forbidden?"

"When they walked amongst us, the Ancestors created the Ring system so that they could travel between their various worlds and provide for us. When they ascended to the heavens, they no longer needed the Rings. And even though they left them behind, we believe they are not for us mere mortals to use. Now they have been tainted and can even deliver evil to our door."

"The Wraith?"

"You know of those evil creatures?"

"I've had one or two run-ins with them." John paused for a moment, thinking of Teyla's folk and many others. "Nealia, I'm not going to criticize your beliefs but if it wasn't for the Ring, many people couldn't trade or even find new homes after a devastating cull."

"That may be true but we believe that the Rings should only be for the Holy Ones to use." Nealia bowed her head. "We also believe that one day they will return to us."

John didn't say anything to that. He attempted to change the subject as fanatical religion just wasn't his thing and in his humble opinion, the Ancients certainly didn't deserve to be worshiped, no more than the Wraith. "How many live on this island and have you been troubled by the Wraith in recent years?"

"Our community now numbers two hundred and seventy five and it grows strong with the blessings of the Ancestors. The Wraith have not troubled us here. I do not know about the mainland, as we have had no contact since leaving. The last known attack happened many years ago before I was even born. If they do come we plan to hide in the deep caves situated on the northern shore"

_If you get enough warning,_ John thought but he didn't tell her that. He only said. "That's good to hear. And the island provides everything you need?"

Nealia looked into his eyes. "The land is good. We brought some livestock with us to farm, we grow what we can and the sea supplies the rest." She paused for a moment before asking. "Who are Teyla, Ronon and…," She searched her memory but the last name eluded her.

"Rodney," John supplied.

"Yes, that was it. You called for them many times during your fevered dreams."

John looked down at his hands and chewed his lower lip, deciding what to tell her. "They were on the ferry with me. They're travelling companions and good friends of mine."

"I see. Do you have a wife and children, John?"

Her question caught John of guard. He chuckled and said. "Err…no"

"Then you will make a good addition to our community. Sari has yet to find a suitable husband."

John nearly sputtered. "I'm sorry but I won't be sticking around for long. As soon as I'm able, I intend to return home. I don't know why my friends haven't come for me yet?" A fact that was concerning John more than he liked to admit, but he still didn't voice it.

Nealia looked genuinely sad when she stated the obvious. "John, you fell from the ferry, they must think that you are dead." She paused to let that sink in. "I feel truly sorry for you, but I do not know how you will leave the island. We destroyed all our boats when we first arrived."

TBC

_Still enjoying this story? Please let me know and review. Thanks._


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Nealia's statement had hit John like a slap in the face. It followed him around for days to come. With his returning strength came a growing restlessness along with the usual questions. What had really happened to his team? Were they safely home on Atlantis? And why hadn't anyone come for him?

Those thoughts left him feeling lonelier than at any other time, apart from the six months he'd spent with Teer and her people. But no weird distortion field was responsible this time around. So that left only one conclusion, Nealia must be right. They must truly think he was dead. But even if that was the case, why hadn't they tried to recover his body?

The questions kept whirling around in his head and the more he worried, the more depressed he felt. Because while he was stuck on this island there wasn't a darn thing he could do about it.

Lowering his head, John glanced at his wounded arm. Nealia had enclosed it in a makeshift sling to keep it immobile. Suddenly a memory flashed.

"_Which arm do ya want your sub-trans injection, Colonel?" _

"_I'm right handed, Carson. I don't want to be incapacitated for one minute."_

"_Aye, so the left it is then." _

In all likelihood, the damn fish had taken a bite out of the very place where the transmitter had been. It was the only logical explanation, which meant he was in deep trouble. If they had found the thing inside the fish or at the bottom of the sea, they probably had him buried and replaced by now. _Crap._ That conclusion made him feel even more depressed.

"Why are you looking so sad?" Sev's question interrupted John's despondent mood. He hadn't even realized the kid had come into the room.

"I'm sorry, Sev, it's got nothing to do with you or your family but I've just realized that my people probably aren't even looking for me.

Sev's face brightened. "Then you will have to stay with us!"

John cracked a smile. The boy seemed to like him for some reason and his optimistic attitude helped to lighten his mood, just a little. "Sev, I'm grateful to you and your mom for all you've done for me but I've got a life out there and friends I need to get back to." _Not to mention bringing some people to justice for what they did, _John thought_. _"You understand that, don't you?"

"Yes...I guess but how are you going to get off the island?"

"Good question. Maybe I'll build a raft or something."

"A raft?"

"It's like a boat but without the sides. Usually its wooden planks or bamboo canes lashed together to form a flat platform."

Sev looked shocked. "It does not sound very safe to me. A trell could easily tip it up and then they would eat you for sure, Mister Sheppard."

John chewed his lip and looked up at the kid. "Call me John, Sev. And you could be right. A raft is fine in calmer water but in rough weather…not so much. Anyway it will have to do because I'm no boat builder." John thought about his Irish Ancestors. They may have been able to knock together a currach or simple sailing boat but the Sheppard family of Maryland had long ago lost that skill. He wouldn't even know where to begin. "Do any of your people know anything about boat building? He asked, hopefully.

Sev shook his head. "Not that I know of."

John sighed. "Well then, I'll have to see what the island can supply in way of building material and attempt it myself."

Sev was thoughtful for a minute. "Ma said you came through the Ring of the Ancestors, is that so?"

"Yep."

Sev looked around as if checking for his parents before asking in a low voice. "What are other worlds like?"

John also kept his voice low to protect the child. "Much like yours. The Ancestors must have preferred worlds with plenty of vegetation in the form of trees and grassland to place their gates…err...rings. I guess that's because it's the best environment for humans. I can't think of any planet that isn't like that, except for the odd desert or ice planet. Which had probably been fertile when they first placed the rings." John left it at that, the kid certainly didn't need to know about space gates.

"Sev come and do your chores!" The loud voice of his father hollered just outside John's door.

"Yes, father!" The boy scurried out as his father entered the room.

"Sheppard, now that you are feeling better, we would be grateful for your help."

John stood up. "Of course as long as you don't expect me to milk cows or help build a barn."

Jaylen looked at him weirdly. "Why would we ask you to do that? We already have a very good barn and I do not know what a cow is."

It was no good trying to explain movie references to the man. "It's nothing. Take no notice of me."

Jaylen shot him another strange look before adding. "I have left you a razor in the washroom. We do not grow full beards unless one is wise and old. Since you are neither, we would appreciate it if you would shave."

That was a slap in the face but John nodded his agreement. Jaylen wasn't half as pleasant as his wife but at least John knew where he stood with the man. He followed Jaylen towards the kitchen. "If you help me build a raft, I'll be out of your hair in no time."

Jaylen stopped and turned. "I will help when I can but be warned, my wife is looking to pair you with Sari."

"Too bad, one way or another, I'm going home." Jaylen nodded his approval and walked on.

oOo

John sat in the garden soaking up the first bit of decent sunshine since the storm. Spread before him on a small wooden table lay the contents of his TAC vest and his trusty combat knife, which was going to come in very useful. Earlier he had safely stored a small block of C4 in his room, well away from the detonators and small hands.

It appeared that he had lost his radio somewhere along the line. It had been clipped inside his TAC vest, so John guessed it must have been knocked off or stolen during the attack, just like his 9 mil. His GDO had fared better and was currently lying in a sunny spot to dry out a little more. Whether it still functioned after its dunking was questionable but the unit was designed to be waterproof, so John was hopeful.

Nealia came out of the kitchen door and watched him for a moment before heading over to speak to him. It was good to see him recovering so well. She took in his appearance and admired it. He had cleaned up very nicely and looked just fine in one of her husband's homespun shirts. Even if it was a little too large for his slim frame, but Nealia thought a few hearty meals would soon take care of that. Indeed, John Sheppard was a good looking man. Sari should be smitten for sure.

John was concentrating so intensely on the rest of his stuff that Nealia's unexpected arrival caught him totally off guard. He almost fell off his seat and nearly dropped the flashlight he'd been holding.

Nealia looked mortified. "Oh, I am so sorry, I should have made more noise but the little one sleeps and I did not wish to call out to you."

John looked up and gave her a charming smile. "It's OK. I should have been paying more attention." Normally he would have been but for some reason he felt totally relaxed in this environment. One of the rare times in his turbulent life. He put down the flashlight and looked her in the eye. "Can I do something for you?"

"If you are strong enough, Jaylen would like you to join him over in the orchard. The limia fruit are ready for picking and he needs some help."

"As long as the trees aren't too high."

"Oh no, we do not expect you to reach up for them. All he wants is for someone to pack the boxes."

John nodded and began to clear away his things. "Okay, just give me a minute to put this stuff back in my room."

Nealia eyed the combat knife. "That looks very sharp and well made."

To forestall any further questions, John quickly replied. "I got lucky. Found it in a market. Well, I'd better go and help Jaylen before he gets impatient."

Fifteen minutes later, John found Jaylen halfway up a crude but strong looking ladder. The tree he was picking fruit from had knobbly, twisted branches, certainly no good for raft building.

"Here," Jaylen handed down his full basket, "Pack the fruit into that box over there and then I'll show you some plants that may be suitable for your raft."

"Yeah, sure." John quickly started to pack the big red fruit, one handed. They looked a little like an apple. "Is it okay if I take a bite?"

"Make sure you get a really ripe one otherwise they can give you the stomach ache. We usually leave them to fully mature for a few days."

John hastily put the fruit back in the box. "Been there, done that, so I think I'll leave it until they're ready to eat." Memories surfaced of the terrible bout of sickness he'd suffered onboard the ferry. It hadn't reoccurred since. So whatever they had poisoned him with must have been short lived, thank god.

Jaylen slowly shook his head. "You are a very strange man, Sheppard. Come let us go, we can finish the rest later."

John followed him through the orchard and across a field full of what looked like Tava beans until they arrived at a large, densely grown area that stretched down to a flat sandy beach. And bingo, over on one side grew the Pegasus version of what looked like bamboo.

John was about to walk over and inspect it, when Jaylen cautioned. "Watch out for the Etla they can give you a nasty sting."

John didn't know what an etla was but they sounded dangerous "Okay…maybe you should go first." Jaylen huffed and moved past John to lead the way.

oOo

It was hard work, especially with one arm still not a hundred percent healed, yet somehow in the days that followed John managed to gather enough of the tough canes to construct a raft. Thanks to a strong pack animal, which looked at little like an oxen, he was able to pull out the thickest plants. Meaning he didn't have to spend hours trying to hack his way through. Not that he'd done all the work himself. Jaylen had helped from time to time along with Sev and a neighbour's son called Brin Zach, who John guessed was about eighteen.

At least John knew enough about bamboo to know that he needed to gather the drier older stuff and not the young green canes. He also quickly learnt how to avoid the etla. Looking like a cross between a crab and a scorpion, John had no doubt that they could pack a powerful sting with their impressive tails and large pinchers.

So now he had the task of building a raft seaworthy enough to take him across the water to the mainland. It was going to be a monumental chore, one that could take quite a while to complete.

oOo

"I called you all together because there has been a new development concerning the investigation." Mr. Woolsey announced to the team and Major Lorne as they sat around the conference table.

McKay looked up, hopeful. "Really?"

"Let's just say that I called in a few favours and it seems this Brent person is related to one of the councillors. Her name is Shiana and if you recall, she was the only one that voted against us. A coincidence or is there far more to Sheppard's accidental drowning than meets the eye?"

Ronon stood up and growled. "I knew we should have gone after the man."

"And if we had, we may not have found out about the connection. Now we have to tread very carefully even if it still takes some time. We have an alliance with the Coalition and we can't go around accusing Shiana until we have definite proof. Is that understood, Ronon?" The Satedan scowled and reluctantly sat back down.

"So where do we go from here?" Rodney asked.

Woolsey turned to look at the scientist. He knew McKay was taking his friend's death very badly. "Councillor Kelore has agreed to keep a close check on Shiana's movements, although he is extremely sceptical about her involvement. And we will continue keep an eye on Brent and Sagro. Hopefully we will get a lucky break and find some positive evidence." Everyone nodded in general agreement.

Woolsey looked down at the folder before him and sighed. "Before you go, there's one more thing. The SGC has found a replacement commander. He will be arriving with the Apollo in approximately nineteen days time." Nobody looked particularly happy about the news.

"Do we know who he is?" Major Lorne enquired.

"He's a fifty year old Air Force Colonel by the name of Wilkinson and has been with the SGC for about seven years. It seems they don't want him to lead a team. He will remain on Atlantis with his full attention focused on the smooth running of military operations."

"Sheppard used to do that." Rodney muttered.

Woolsey sighed. "Yes he did, but Colonel Sheppard had to divide his attention between active missions, scheduling and tedious paperwork. I believe there were times when he was overstretched as Major Lorne can vouch. Colonel Wilkinson's duties will be like that of an Earth Base commander and I'm sure you will appreciate not having to spend so much time on paperwork, Major?"

Lorne simply nodded. He'd rather have Sheppard back, even if it meant plenty of paperwork, but there was nothing more to be said. Whether they liked it or not, they had to accept the new guy. But in the opinion of at least three people in the room, nobody could ever replace John Sheppard.

oOo

"John! Where are you, John!"

_Oh crap, _Nealia was going to find out about the raft. John guessed she wouldn't be too pleased_._

"I'm over here on the beach!" John called as he turned to watch her approach. It seemed she wasn't alone. He cast an appreciative eye over the younger woman accompanying her. She was probably ten years his junior with a pretty smile, dark hair and a slim waistline.

Nealia stopped and frowned at the half-constructed raft. "What is that thing?"

John felt like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "It's my ticket off the island." He noted that the younger woman's face suddenly fell with those words.

"I know you wish to return home but after seeing our beautiful island, I was hoping that you had changed your mind." Nealia turned to the woman and introduced her. "This is Sari. She has come to see if you would like to accompany her to our festival of thanksgiving."

"A festival of thanksgiving?"

John's face must have shown his horror and reluctance because Sari quickly explained. "It is not as boring as it sounds. There will be singing, dancing and plenty of good food."

"I'm no dancer and I haven't anything decent to wear."

Nealia quickly spoke up in case he thought that was a good way out of it. "I have already arranged for you to borrow some clothes from my cousin Kris. He is about your size, although a little shorter."

"Okay, just as long as the pants don't stop at my ankles. When it is anyway?"

Nealia looked pleased. "Tomorrow just before sundown when we will all gather at the temple. Do not look so alarmed, John, our temple is not only for worship."

"That's good to know." John didn't like the idea very much but these people had saved his life, so it would have been rude to have refused them. He turned to Sari. "Okay then, just swing by the house and you can show me the way."

Sari nodded. "You have a very strange way of talking."

John smiled. "So I've been told."

The women left him to his work but before leaving the beach, Nealia turned and said. "I do not wish to dampen your spirit, John, but you will never cross the great sea on that thing."

John watched their retreating backs. "We'll see about that," he muttered before turning back to his work.

oOo

On the day of the festival, Sari arrived early all decked out in a pretty, full skirted dress and with flowers in her hair. All petticoats and lace, making John feel as if he had just stepped into a scene from a Rogers and Hammerstein musical. Just like the amateur production of Oklahoma his maiden aunt had dragged him and Dave to when they were boys. That had been seriously not cool for a boy obsessed with flying and fast moving objects.

Nealia was similarly dressed but not quite so frilly. The style certainly wasn't John's thing but he smiled and told them they looked very nice. At that, Sari went bright red.

John glanced down, thinking he looked stupid in the borrowed clothing despite reassurances from Jaylen and Nealia that he looked just fine. The dark pants were too baggy and the blue tunic was too short in the arms. He quickly rolled up the sleeves to make it more presentable.

The weather was beautiful and John soaked up the warmth of the late afternoon sunshine as they sat and chatted in the garden until it was time to leave.

With the children safely left in the care of a babysitter, they started out on the short walk to the temple. The path took them near golden fields of ripening crops and fruit laden trees. Further inland, majestic volcanic peaks stood out in sharp contrast against the deep blue evening sky. Eroded by millions of years, the volcano was obviously extinct. Indeed, the island appeared to be as bountiful as Nealia had mentioned. In a way, the idyllic place reminded John of the islands of Hawaii where he spent some of his summer vacations as a kid. He vaguely wondered what Dave had done with the beach house on Kauai.

As they approached the temple, John began to feel a little apprehensive. This would be his first encounter with the rest of the community. Normally, it didn't bother him but for some reason meeting these crazy Ancient worshippers left him feeling somewhat tense. The temple was an impressive structure surrounded by trees and low bushes. It was far sturdier looking than the simple wooden homes of the community surrounding it. Then it dawned on John, the temple was Ancient in design.

He turned to Nealia and asked. "Was this structure here before you arrived?"

"Yes, it was. We always knew that the island was a sacred place. Soon after we arrived, we discovered that this area held one of the great temples of the Ancestors. It was covered by a lot of vegetation and it took many days to clear away but now we have a place to worship the great ones. To think they used to tread this very land makes it all the more important to us."

Before John could say anything, Sari handed him an oil lantern. "Come we must go inside and meet the others."

John pondered as to why everyone was now holding lanterns as they slowly entered the building. _Could it be that the place wasn't powered up?_ He suddenly had a very bad feeling but before he could do anything, he was ushered inside. John kept his thoughts neutral and let out a sigh of relief when the place didn't react to his ATA gene.

The building looked just like any other Ancient outpost John had ever seen, but the subdued light of the oil lanterns made it feel eerie, not unlike the lab where the Arcturus project was found. John just hoped that this one held no super destructive weapons.

The island's current inhabitants had placed simple wooden tables around the walls almost hiding the original consoles. The tables held plates of food for the festival and the oil lanterns, which people had relinquished upon entering. In the centre stood a slightly higher table that was covered with a simple cloth. On top there appeared to be several artefacts, carefully laid out. Leaving John to believe that it was an altar to the Ancestors.

Unfortunately, he didn't get a chance to observe anymore as Sari led him over to meet several people. He smiled his best even though their greetings were somewhat reserved. Sari didn't seem to notice it as she introduced him to yet more citizens. Thankfully, the whole introduction thing was cut short by the arrival of an elderly man dressed in grey. He sported a very unkempt white beard and what little hair he had was also white. John guessed he could be the priest or the village elder.

The man held up his hands. "Good people of Saratu let us give thanks to the Ancestors for another bountiful summer." Then he babbled on and on about the weather, the harvest and boring things like that.

John began to lose interest, thinking that Sari hadn't been one hundred percent honest about this being a light-hearted festival. His attention drifted to his raft and the work still needing to be done. It wasn't until Sari lightly tapped him on the shoulder that John realized that his name was being called. And all eyes were focused on him.

The old man looked at him patiently and beckoned. "Come John Sheppard let us welcome you to our community. Then we can eat and dance."

With a little encouragement from Sari and Nealia, John walked over to stand before the man, even though he hated this kind of attention. "I am Aldran, priest and elder to these people and it is good that the Ancestors deemed your life worth saving from the great sea. Come!" Aldran encouraged, guiding John nearer to the altar table. "Let us give thanks."

Now much closer, John could clearly see some of the objects. One looked like a control unit and there were several life sign detectors.

Aldran talked a little more, thanking the Ancestors of his salvation and John felt obliged to join in. After all, they were celebrating his survival. Thankfully, the elder never asked him to touch anything and before long the celebration got underway.

After plenty of good food and drinks, the festival turned to singing and dancing. The male singer certainly wasn't Johnny Cash but John appreciated their music, which sounded a little like country and western.

John had one dance with Sari before she was asked by a rather plain, weedy looking man, who obviously had a thing for her. The look he flashed John could have killed him on the spot if eyes were lasers. Sari reluctantly agreed, leaving John free to snoop around a little.

Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, he gradually edged his way to the back of the complex where he'd seen another door, located well away from the main festivities. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to nab one of the lanterns without being noticed. So it was a little dark away from their glowing light, but not enough to cause him problems.

The closed door was of a standard type with the usual crystal control panel by the side. After checking to see if anyone was looking, John swiped his hand over the panel. The door immediately reacted to his gene, sliding back with a swishing noise. It sounded a little too loud to John but he didn't brother checking to see if anyone had heard it before quickly slipping inside, allowing the door to close behind him. The only problem now, he couldn't see very much. So he spent the next few minutes groping around until he abruptly connected with a solid object, stubbing his toe painfully in the process. However, whatever he touched immediately reacted to his ATA gene and the place lit up like a Christmas tree.

Blinking in the sudden bright light, John quickly scanned the room. It looked like a laboratory of sorts and held yet more consoles for unknown purposes. Over on the far wall was another door. John quickly moved over and swiped that crystal. The door opened under protest and for the first time in thousands of years, revealed its contents. John did a double take, for there sitting undisturbed was a most beautiful sight to the pilot's wearily eyes. A puddle jumper.

John let out a whoop of joy. Regaining his composure, he walked around the craft admiring its perfectly smooth lines while checking for any signs of damage. However, his inspection was cut short by a loud commotion beyond the outer door. John reluctantly left the jumper room, swiping the door closed before going to see what all the commotion was about.

TBC

_Thanks for the latest batch of reviews. Please keep them coming. _


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The minute John opened the lab door he was comforted by a heated mob and immediately saw the reason why. _Oops! _When he'd accidentally triggered the lab lights, he had also triggered the entire complex. Naturally the people were upset, even though in John's humble opinion he had done them a big favour.

Aldran came forward. "What is the meaning of this!" he shouted.

John held up his hands and grinned. "Sorry, didn't mean to do anything, must have hit the light switch or something by accident." Of course the people probably didn't understand the term light switch because like the mainland, the island didn't have electric lighting.

Nealia and Sari looked stricken as several men moved forward to grab John roughly by the arms. He quickly shook them off. "Hey, I didn't do anything wrong!"

Aldran stepped closer. "That is for us to decide. You have violated the sanitary of the temple."

"Because I accidentally triggered the lights?"

"No! You have gone through a door that no other has ever been able to enter. Only an Ancestor could have done such a thing and as a mere mortal, you are most certainly not an Ancestor!"

John nearly said, 'What makes you so sure,' but he held his tongue wondering how to explain the ATA gene to these fanatics. "Tell me, how did you get into the main complex to being with?"

Aldran looked a little shamefaced but his answer was firm. "When we freed the great temple from the undergrowth, we could see that the main entry was already open. We took that as a sign that the Ancestors wished us to enter. However, this door has always remained closed. Therefore what lies beyond must be forbidden for us mere mortals to see." What Aldran failed to mention was, the fact that the main entry had only been slightly ajar and they had forced the door to enter but that was unimportant to him. "You have violated the sanctuary and now you must answer for your crime!"

"Now wait a minute, let me try to explain something about the Ancestors." However, John never got a chance as ruff hands grabbed his arms and unceremoniously dragged him out of the building toward the village. Of course, the minute John and his escort left, the lights powered down leaving some very confused villagers.

Nealia cautiously approached the Aldran; he could be volatile in this mood. "With all due respect, honoured Elder, should you not have listened to John Sheppard's explanation?"

"What is there to explain? It is oblivious that the man is no Ancestor. He had no right to enter the sanctuary and now he must pay for his crime. The punishment will be decided tomorrow by the high council."

_Meaning you, _Nealia thought but she didn't voice it. Instead, it left her feeling somewhat concerned for John's welfare. "He is a stranger," she pleaded, "Not familiar with our beliefs. And how do you explain the lights?"

Aldran had no answer for that. "I understand what you are trying to say. Have no fear. We will not hold you or your family responsible for his actions. But as I said before, he must pay for his encroachment upon sacred ground." Aldran walked away leaving nothing more to be said. And for the first time, Nealia began to question her beliefs.

After a short walk John was pushed into a primitive hut, which seemed to serve as a jail. It comprised of a simple wooden bench to sleep on, a table and a bucket. Despite its crude appearance, the hut was strongly built. The single door sported a small barred window, which was the only light source. The walls were made of thick wooden logs, blockhouse style. They looked impenetrable but even if John could have escaped, there was nowhere to hide on such a small island. Other than the caves Nealia had mentioned but what good would they be to him without access to food and water. No, he would face the music and take his punishment like a man. But why did they need a lock-up anyway. Surely crime wasn't a big issue on the island. John pushed that disturbing thought to the back of his mind as he moved over to the bench to stretch out.

He tried to relax, to switch off his turbulent mind but inevitably his thoughts returned to his find. The puddle jumper could be his ticket off the island, if the thing still worked. Although his chances of getting anywhere near the temple again were probably very slim. Unless he could convince them otherwise, but John knew from experience that fanatics were the stubbornness to see reason. Meaning, he had his work cut out for him, if they ever gave him the chance to explain.

Despite the hard nature of the bench, John must have slept because the next thing he knew, four people had entered the jail. He couldn't make out their faces in the dim light, cast only by the oil lanterns they carried but from the stature of one, it had be Aldran with his slightly humped back and white hair. John quickly stood up to face them.

"What am I going to do with you, Sheppard?" Aldran asked in his gravelly voice.

"Let me go, so I can get off your island and leave you in peace."

"Ah…if only it was that simple. You see your actions have put questions into the minds of our people. Questions that have not been asked for many a year."

John looked at him curiously. "What sort of questions?"

"Like the fact that despite not being Ancestral, a few mortals can use the machines left by the holy ones. It was decided long ago that these people were charlatans, harbourers of bad spirits."

John nearly rolled his eyes but thought better of it. Although trying to explain the ATA gene without stepping on a few toes wasn't going to be easy, so he decided to try to explain it in their terms.

"If you will listen for a minute, I have a perfectly good explanation for their abilities and mine. You see when the Ancestors walked amongst us they looked just like you or me. Naturally, this spurred relationships with humans. These interactions resulted in offspring who carried a specific gene. And although the children weren't of pure blood, they were able to operate the Ancestors' machines. The gene has been carried down through generations."

"Heresy! You speak of nothing but falsehood and lies, for the Ancestors would not have stooped so low as to have children with mere mortals!"

"Why ever not? Believe me the Ancestors looked just like us. I know because I've met a few only a…." John didn't get a chance to finish. The first punch took him by surprise in the stomach region, leaving him winded and doubled over with pain. The second punch caught him on the back of his head, sending him spiralling down to do a face plant on the rough, stony floor.

His left cheek stung with a sharp jolt of pain, which shot up to his eye. He lay winded, totally vulnerable but before he could move, another hefty kick caught him in the back. It was quickly followed by one in the side. Once again John was outnumbered, unable to defend himself and, he knew the attack wasn't going to end right there and then.

Several more kicks followed before Aldran moved to stand over him. "We will beat the dissension out of you, Sheppard! The beatings will only stop when you admit to your trickery."

_Then I'll be dead, _John thought. He didn't voice that opinion_. _Either way, he knew that he didn't stand a chance and John truly wished he'd never set foot on this godforsaken planet. "I was only…telling you...the truth," he managed to grind out though clenched teeth once the pain became more bearable.

"Lies!" Aldran shouted. Then the beatings started again.

Blow after blow connected. John tried to protect his chest and head as best he could by curling up as tightly as possible but his back was exposed to the full brutality. It wasn't until one kick connected viciously with his bad arm that John finally lost consciousness.

Aldran stared down at the prone man. During the beatings, he had asked the man more than once if would admit to his lies. Sheppard had steadfastly refused. Now with no other chance to ask, Aldran and his men left their victim lying face down on the dirty, blood splattered floor.

oOo

Early the next morning, before the sun had fully risen, Nealia and Sari quietly approached the hut that served as a jail. They half expected to see someone guarding the place but for some reason Aldran must have deemed it unnecessary. After calling John's name several times, they soon found out why.

John slowly came to his senses when he heard his name being called. It took him a moment to recognise the voice as being Nealia's. It was an effort but somehow he managed to get his battered body off the floor and stagger over to the door.

The women gasped as they took in his bruised and bloodied appearance. Sari went quite pale with shock. Nealia had half expected it, but it still left her very upset and angry. "What in the Ancestors' name did they do to you?"

John tired to straighten from his hunched position but his back protested loudly. "They wanted to teach me a little lesson in obedience." He whispered through swollen, bloodied lips.

Getting over her shock, Sari looked around worriedly before asking. "Who did this to you?"

"Aldran and his henchmen." John pressed his face against the bars and tried to peer beyond the women. A sharp pain in his back warned him not to stretch any further. He slumped back down and said. "You shouldn't be here. If someone sees you there could be trouble."

"Do not worry, John. Many of our citizens are already disturbed by your treatment. They question how such a wonderful thing could have occurred. Some even believe that you are an Ancestor."

John would have laughed if he wasn't in pain. "I'm no Ancestor, Nealia. I do carry their gene and I tried to explain that to Aldran last night. He got nasty."

The women looked confused but they didn't get a chance to say anymore as they suddenly noticed a man heading their way. Wisely, they quickly vanished into a nearby alleyway, hoping he hadn't spotted them.

Somehow, John made it back to the bench before the door was flung open and the man entered carrying a jug and some bread. "We do not want you to die on us just yet, Sheppard, so here is some breakfast," he said, throwing the bread onto John's prone body. "I will leave the water on the table." With that, he slammed the door shut leaving John alone again.

It was almost too much but John managed to get his battered body upright. His left arm hung useless, just too darn painful to move. It hadn't fully healed when an assailant's boot had given it a glancing blow. The wound had reopened. Fortunately not as deep as it had been, but the sleeve of his borrowed shirt was caked with dried blood.

Despite his injuries, John was hungry. He carefully reached down for the bread that had fallen onto the floor. It appeared to be a little dirty now, so he made an effort to brush it off. Then he noticed that some of the grime was green, meaning the bread had been stale and mouldy to begin with. Frustrated, he tossed it into a corner before hobbling over to the table, hoping that the water wasn't in the same state. Thankfully it seemed okay, so he took a long drink to quench his thirst. It helped a little but his stomach growled loudly.

He was about to stumble back to the bench when he heard his name being called again. Realising that Nealia was back, he shuffled over to her. Grabbing the bars he looked at her with concern, "Please go home before you get caught."

Nealia stared at his bloody fingers. She hated seeing him like this. Pushing some fresh bread and fruit though the bar, she whispered. "I do not suppose they fed you properly. Just hang on for as long as you can. We will try to help you."

"I'll try but if they beat me up again." Nealia looked ready to cry. She quickly moved away before the tears came.

After eating the much welcome food, John endeavoured to rest but no matter how he lay, the hard bench put pressure on his back and bruises. Despite his discomfort, he must have dozed off for a while before suddenly jolting awake, feeling wretched and uncomfortable.

Outside the temperature must have risen because the hut had become stiflingly hot. The water was long gone. It hadn't been much to begin with, so John's thirst was mounting. If they didn't bring him some fresh water soon, John knew he'd be dehydrated by nightfall_. _Of course the moment he thought that, John heard the lock being turned. However, it wasn't to bring him the much needed water.

Before John could protest he was roughly hauled off the bench by two large men. Strong hands held him by the arms and he was dragged outside into the midday sun. He let out a quiet grunt from the rough handling, steadfastly refusing to cry out. The men continued to hold him tightly, sandwiched between them. Forcing him to stumble to an unknown destination as the overhead sun shone directly into his eyes, blocking out any view of what lay ahead. It wasn't until they pushed him to the ground that John realized he was in the shadow of a large tree.

Then he made the mistake of glancing up and John's blood ran cold. Dangling just above his head was a thick roped noose. So this was a lynching mob.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

A short distance away a panicky boy burst into his home and screamed. "Ma! Ma! They are going to hang him!" Sev gulped in air. He had never run so fast in his life.

Nealia came rushing from the kitchen where she had been preparing the midday meal. She could see her son's distress. Instinctively, she reached out to calm him. "Who are they going to hang?" As if she didn't know.

"John! Elder Aldran and the council are taking him to the big tree. I saw the rope they made to hang him with."

"How long ago was this?" Nealia asked, fearing it was already too late.

"They were just getting him out of the jail when I ran home."

Nealia threw off her apron and grabbed her son's arm. "You will stay right here and look after the little ones. Is that understood?"

Sev nodded. "Yes, ma."

"Good." Saying no more she rushed off, not bothering to waste time looking for Jaylen. Fortunately, she met him working in the orchard.

Sev watched her leave before gathering up his brothers and sisters. Turning to Marie, who was just two years his junior, he said, "Take the children over to Zach's place and don't tell Ma."

"But she said you…."

"Please do it, Marie. I promise to give you my share of cake next time Ma bakes one." The girl nodded. Sev threw one last look her way before dashing out of the house.

oOo

From his prone position, John looked up into the face of his executioner. "Don't I even get a trial?"

Aldran moved to stand over him. "You admitted your guilt last night or have you forgotten?" He asked, keeping his voice so soft that only John could hear.

"I admitted to nothing!" John spat out, as loudly as his dry throat would allow. If he could just delay matters long enough, maybe the cavalry would arrive. He could see some citizens gathering already but for some reason none of them tried to intervene. "What do you hope to gain by hanging me?"

"We will rid the island of the evil that has been washed upon its shore."

If matters hadn't been so serious, John would have laughed at him. Instead, he whispered. "I turn on a few lights and now I'm evil. I thought you believed my survival was due to Ancestral intervention."

"I was mistaken and now you dishonour the Ancestors, desecrated our sanctuary and bring unrest to our community. If that is not malicious, then what is?"

John could think of many answers but he chose not to say anything. This planet had been out to get him since he'd stepped foot through the Stargate. He was growing very tired of it. "Just let me go and I'll leave this island, never to return."

"Absolutely not! We must make an example of you so that others will be deterred from straying from the true faith."

_So that's why they need a lock-up. One wrong word and it's probably plenty of jail time to think about your sins. _John shook his head, astounded by the man's words. "I'm not one of your believers and I was telling you the truth."

Aldran stepped away from him. "Therefore you are guilty and will be hanged." He signalled his henchmen. Two stepped forward to roughly grab John under the arms.

Maybe he could have fought them off but he was in pain and what was the point. No matter how he looked at it, he was totally screwed and outnumbered. And even if he could have made it to the raft, it wasn't seaworthy yet. So John stood tall and quietly allowed them to put the noose around his neck.

oOo

They stood him on a chair, a rather flimsy affair. One false move and the thing could easily tip over. He wasn't far off the ground so at least his neck wouldn't be broken, but the prospect of slow strangulation was terrifying. John held his breath and tried to keep as still as possible, although inside he was shaking. It would take an utter fool not to be afraid. John was no fool.

The crowd was growing edgy and Aldran knew it, he would have to act soon before any protests could start. He was just about to signal for the chair to be kicked away when Nealia and Jaylen burst through the crowd.

"What in the Ancestors' name are you doing, Aldran?" Nealia shouted.

"The council has decreed that this man is guilty and will die for his crimes!"

"The council? You mean you have decided. Is that not so?"

The old man fumed. How dare she question his authority? "Sheppard confessed his guilt to the four of us last night and it was a unanimous decision to execute him."

John cleared his throat and shouted as loudly as he could. "That's a lie and you know it! I confessed to nothing. I only opened a door and turned on some lights."

By now, the crowd had edged nearer and everyone heard John words. Unrest grew more evident. They were a peace loving people and didn't like violence, no matter what. So this went against their usual code of behaviour.

Aldran sensed it. He turned to his people. "Is it not a crime to speak ill of the Ancestors? This man did just that! He implied that the Ancestors had sexual relationships with humans!" A few gasps rippled through the crowd but not the reaction Aldran had hoped to get.

Someone shouted. "And for that reason alone you condemned him to death? Is that not a bit drastic, honourable Elder?" A number of other citizens murmured in agreement.

"I wish only to protect our beliefs from the evil spirits this man carries within him! From the lies and profanity he speaks! Ancestors' be praised for they would approve of our actions."

"No, they would not!" A boy's higher pitched voice cried out. Sev bravely stepped forward to face Aldran. He averted his eyes away from John, not bearing to look at him with a rope around his neck. "The Sanki saved him. They would not have done so if they thought he was evil."

Aldran looked at the boy, a mask of disapproval written on his face. "They are but simple creatures and have no concept of what is right and what is wrong."

"That is not so! Everyone knows they are intelligent and can sense things we cannot."

"You will not talk to me like that, boy!"

Nealia and Jaylen quickly moved to protect their son. "That is enough, Aldran. Sev is only trying to save a man he has come to love and respect."

Aldran's face went red with anger. "Can you not see what this evil is doing to us? Now we fight amongst ourselves, whereas before there was only peace. Sheppard has brought discord to our island!"

Sari stepped forward. She had stayed out of it but the Elder's words incensed her. "It is not Sheppard that brings unrest! It is you for questioning his ability to open a door."

"And to open that door is forbidden. You know that well enough, Sari."

John groaned. This could take forever and his legs were growing tired. He didn't think he could stand perfectly still and upright for much longer but if he relaxed, the damn chair could shift from under him. Even under the tree it was getting unbearably hot, and the perspiration loss was adding to his great thirst. The aches and pains from the beating also added to his discomfort. His back was killing him and the agony in his arm was becoming excruciating.

As the minutes ticked by, John began to feel positively dizzy. He looked to the crowd, trying to signal his distress but they were still busy arguing over his fate. Soon it wouldn't make much difference anyway as John was pretty sure he was on the verge of passing out. He tried a fight it, as he still believed Nealia and the others could free him.

Suddenly the rope began to feel awfully tight and rough against his throat, as if already squeezing the life out of him. He tried to swallow but he couldn't. The tightness increased and blood drained from his face. His heart pumped hard to compensate and his vision clouded. Vertigo made him topple and he was unable to prevent the chair from shifting beneath him.

John vaguely heard a muffled scream just before the rope restricted his airway and darkness descended.

TBC

_Sorry its another cliffy but you love them don't you? _


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

A hand lightly touched his cheek, giving it a tap or two. "Come on, John. It is time to wake up."

_What? _For a moment John's befuddled mind couldn't quite place the softly spoken voice. Then it came back to him. _Nealia. _John moved his tongue in an attempt to moisten his incredibly dry mouth. His throat felt like someone had taken a red hot poker to it. Then he remembered they had tried to hang him. "What…hap...end?" he slurred.

Nealia was relieved to see him react. There had been concern about possible brain damage. "You passed out. Thank the Ancestors we noticed in time to free you from the noose before it strangled you."

"Where...am...I?"

"You need a drink first," she urged, lifting his head a little and placing a cool glass of water against his lips. John readily swallowed the welcome liquid. It helped douse the fire that burned in his throat. After a few more sips, Nealia moved the glass away and gently lowered his head. "You can have some more in a moment. To answer your question, you are home by us."

"No more…hanging?"

Nealia smiled even though John had yet to fully open his eyes. "Aldran and his few followers were outnumbered. Most of our citizens did not agree to their harsh treatment of you. What you did most certainly did not deserve death, even if it does bring our beliefs into question."

John let out a sigh of relieved. "So what now?"

"You must leave the island as soon as you are fit enough, as we fear Aldran and the others may still try to carry out their threat."

John eyes snapped open. He grasped Nealia's arm. "Is your family safe? I won't stay in your house if there's a danger to them."

"You are a good man, John Sheppard. Do not worry, Aldran may have acted badly against you but he would not harm any of us."

"Are you absolutely sure?"

Nealia nodded and lifted his head again to give him some more water. "When you have healed, we will help you to finish the raft."

"If I could just get back into the lab there's a safer and better way for me to leave the island."

Nealia looked confused. "I do not understand."

"It's hard to explain but within the building you use as a temple there is a vehicle that can fly. Assuming it still has enough power, I can pilot it." _And there's an automatic roof opening sequence, _John thought but he didn't go there_._

"Even if I do not understand what you mean, if it will help you leave the island quicker, then I will aid you."

oOo

The thought of going home drove John to recover far quicker than Nealia would have liked. He was up and walking in just under two days, being careful to hide any weakness from her concerned eyes.

He didn't mention a thing to the rest of the family about returning to the temple, as Nealia thought it wise to keep that their secret. And even though it conflicted greatly with her beliefs, Nealia wanted to know all about John's abilities. He'd ended up telling her all about Atlantis, and his connection to the city and Ancient technology. About their fight against the Wraith and even what his friends meant to him. Something he would never have done under normal circumstances. However, John felt he owed her the courtesy, and the ease of talking to Nealia helped him to express himself a great deal.

Strangely, Nealia didn't object to all his misuse of Ancestral artefacts, so maybe she wasn't such a believer after all. That was the main reason why John decided to return to the temple alone in the middle of the night and not involve Nealia at all. He didn't want her endangered, even if it meant that he wouldn't be able to say goodbye to her or Jaylen, Sev and the kids.

oOo

As night fell John quietly gathered his things together, carefully packing them into his TAC vest pockets. He wrote a note to the family thanking them for all that they had done before lying fully dressed, apart from his vest, on top of the bed. He tried very hard not to sleep even though his body was telling him that he still needed some. Plenty, as his bruises and arm wound were far from healed.

Somewhere along the line, he must have lost the battle. Suddenly jolting upright, John realised he had slept sometime into the night. Once his heart stopped pounding, he quickly slipped on his TAC vest and silently left the house. Thankfully it was still dark, so he hadn't slept the whole night away. He thumbed on his small flashlight and started out along the well used path. A cat-like creature nearly startled him as it dashed after some unseen prey. John calmed his nerves and let out a quiet sigh, he had never liked cats very much. It was incredibly quiet apart from the sounds of night insects and crashing waves. One of the planet's two moons was visible over the horizon. John didn't know if it was rising or setting, he hoped for the latter.

He eventually arrived at the temple but before going in, John held back near some bushes just to make sure that the place wasn't being guarded. It seemed okay, so he made a quick dash to the still open portal, flattening his body against the wall before slipping inside. It was dark in the main chamber. He held the flashlight high as the LED's weren't very powerful but they gave off enough light to show him the way to the inner door. Once there he quickly swiped the panel and slipped into the lab, this time being careful not to activate any lights.

His heartbeat raced a frantic rhythm, one hurdle overcome. Now he faced the next. Would the jumper come alive for him? Nervous anticipation made John's hand trembled as he swiped the door panel leading to the jumper room. Holding the light up, he swept it over the Ancient ship, carefully inspecting every centimetre. It seemed fine but when he tried the rear hatch control it failed to open.

Frustrated and disappointed, John ran a hand through his hair. He'd been afraid of this. It could mean the jumper had no power. He moved over to inspect the control. Somehow it looked different. Maybe it was a prototype or something. After all why would the Ancients have built their entire jumper fleet with exactly the same components? A memory flashed, one of the jumpers obtained from Mara's people had been fitted with a similar control. Rodney had complained at the time about it needing a special remote just like a darn TV. They never did find the remote, so Rodney had eventually reversed engineered it. _At least John thought so_.

John let out a long sigh and swept his eyes over the room looking for any storage areas or lockers. There weren't any to be seen and the space beyond the jumper was just one big empty gap, probably meant for more ships. Desperation drove him back into the lab where he started a frantic search in every draw and locker he could find, only to come up empty.

_Damn._ So near, yet so far. There just had to be a way in. John went back to the jumper and muttered. "Give me a break here, please." Then an idea stuck. The remote could be amongst the artefacts on the altar. In fact, he was pretty sure he'd seen something that looked like a possibility_._

Rushing back into the main chamber John began inspecting the objects that had been so carefully placed upon the table. And bingo, his eyes lit up when at the back of the table he spotted a control unit that could very well be the hatch remote.

Wasting no time, he quickly reached over to remove the object. His fingers were almost touching it when he was struck over the head, hard enough to see stars and make his ears buzz. Somehow, he remained standing and conscious. Although dazed, John turned to squint at his assailant. His heart sank. It was Aldran. In his hast to get the remote John had failed to notice that it was now considerably lighter beyond the outer door. The elder must have come in for early morning prayers or whatever and caught him red-handed.

Aldran stood glaring at him, almost frothing at the mouth. "Now you steal our holy objects! I should have hung you despite the opposition. Now you will hang for theft."

John had just about had enough of the old religious maniac. He didn't want to hurt the old fool but he desperately needed that remote. "I don't think so," he stated firmly, a second before launching himself.

Taking the old man totally by surprise, they fell together amid a tangle of limbs. Being younger, John recovered far quicker. Kicking out, he scrambled away from Aldran even as the old man tried to grab his ankles. Rushing to the altar, he snatched the remote like a baton in a relay race and without looking back, ran for dear life to the jumper room. Taking the time to swipe the door closed behind him.

Of course, if he couldn't get into the jumper or the thing didn't start, he'd be in deep trouble. John's heart nearly pounded out of his chest. Holding his breath, he aimed the remote at the control and pressed. With a shudder and a creek the rear hatch slowly dropped.

John released the air in his lungs and sighed with relief before rushing inside. The next big hurdle was getting the thing powered up. He quickly moved to the cockpit and almost fell into the pilot seat. Placing his hand on the control pad as he normally would have and thought, on. _Nothing happened._ Just like the whole goddamn mission, it was yet one more obstacle to face. If he couldn't get the jumper working he would have to face the people, and this time they might just agree with Aldran and hang him for good measure.

As a strong-minded individual John wasn't normally prone to emotional outbursts but tears of frustration pooled in his eyes. He'd had enough. Really, really, had enough. His hands moved to cover his face and he nearly wept, wondering what in heaven's name he'd done to deserve all this. _Maybe_ _the Ancestors were angry with him for upsetting these people._ He laughed aloud at that, it almost sounded crazy to his ears but if nothing went right soon, John was pretty sure he'd finally lose it.

He lent forward to rest his weary, aching head against the console. What would Rodney do? He pondered. As he slowly turned his head toward the middle console, a glint of light caught his eye. He shifted closer to the object. It appeared to be a white crystal resting on its side. It had probably been lying undisturbed for thousands of years. Carefully picking it up, John rotated it a couple of times. It looked familiar_. _Shouldn't that thing be in its slot? _Now if only he could remember where it belonged._ Didn't Rodney sometimes mess around under the console? John quickly glanced under the panel and sure enough, deep in a recess a crystal tray stood slightly ajar. Someone must have been working on it and left it so, but why? John didn't stop and take the time to contemplate what that might have meant. He just wanted to go home, so he slotted the crystal in and held his breath as he tried to power up again. It didn't happen immediately. However after a few minutes, the sweetest sound filled the ship as it finally powered up and drive pods came online. This time John did cry, not tears of frustration but tears of joy.

Yet he still had one more hurdle to face. How to get out of the building but for once he needn't have worried. Fortune or whatever was finally on his side when a loud clanking noise announced the opening of a roof portal. John's hands trembled as he eased the jumper up. Once clear of the building, he rose into the clear blue sky and let out a loud whoop of delight.

John then took the jumper in a wide circle, flying low over Nealia and Jaylen's home. Regretting the fact that he hadn't been able to say goodbye, but he couldn't risk landing now, even for a few minutes. It was time to go home._ Head for the Stargate._ The jumper immediately responded to his mental command, turning toward the mainland.

As he headed out over the water, John didn't see Nealia and her family rush outside. He didn't witness their frantic waving and the tears in their eyes. Different emotions passed through the family as they watched the strange craft fly away, some of sadness, others of relief, because now life could get back to normal.

The mainland came into view in a matter of minutes rather than the hours it took before. John hardly had time to take stock of things and now that the adrenaline was beginning to wear off, his body shouted its abuse. Aldran's attack had given him a pounding headache. His arm was screaming agony and his bruises throbbed especially around his ribcage, but he was nearly home and that's all that really mattered. However, his run of bad luck had one more ace up its sleeve.

John flew the jumper over the coastal boundary avoiding Mendora. A few minutes later, the beautiful sight of the Stargate came into view and he really thought he was home and dry. But suddenly the jumper lost most of its power and the drive pods simply died. _Guess that crystal must have been __defect_. While he was thankful that it hadn't happened over water, he still needed to get the craft down in one piece. And although some of the controls still responded, it didn't really help when dropping toward the ground at an alarming rate. At least John could still control the angle of descent.

It was hard work. His brow beaded with sweat as he fought the controls, while at the same time looking for a suitable place to put down. Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be anywhere flat enough. As far as the eye could see, the terrain was covered with sparsely placed trees, low-lying bushes, sand dunes and ditches. Leaving John with no other option than to try and land on the flattest, clearest area he could find. Which he guessed was probably about two clicks from the Stargate.

So he headed in, giving an audible groan at the speed of descent. It was going to be too fast. Then the jumper hit the ground, churning up sand and bushes in its path. The robust little craft bounced not once but twice before coming to a halt at the base of the only rock for kilometres around.

John had no idea how long he lay there, flattened against the console but eventually he came to his senses, finding the headache he'd had before now ten times worse. He lifted his eyes to look out and saw only a rock face. Somehow, miraculously, the front of the jumper appeared to be still intact, but despite that John looked down to check and see if anything was trapping him. Everything seemed all right.

He slowly lifted his head and his eyes followed a drip of blood as it splattered onto the controls. Cautiously, John lifted a hand to touch his face and grimaced when his fingers came away red. As he didn't have anything to wipe the blood away, he simply swiped the back of his hand across the cut and winced when a sharp pain radiated through his forehead. Something must be embedded, so he left it well alone.

With some difficulty he managed to extract himself from the pilot seat. A dizzy spell left him reeling. He stumbled down the jumper to literally fall onto the hatch control. The hatch opened with a moan to the bright sunshine of a warm summer's day. Somehow, John found the energy to crawl down the ramp. He paused at the bottom for a moment to soak up the warmth, hoping it would give him enough strength to stand up and trudge in what he hoped was the right direction.

It took a while but eventually John found the energy to stand up. He stood on shaky legs, thankful when the dizziness didn't return. A few minutes later he was able to start out, feeling every excruciating pain from the injuries inflicted by Aldran and his men, plus a few new ones from his not so wonderful landing. The deepest throb radiated from this chest and John guessed that a rib or two may have been broken when he slammed into the console. But with his goal in sight, John pushed the agony aside. Nothing was going to stop him from leaving this godforsaken planet. Nothing at all.

But for once things were on his side when an hour later, the wonderful sight of the Ancient Stargate came into view. John was positively trembling by the time he stumbled up to the DHD. It had all been too much; he just wanted to put himself into the wonderful care of the infirmary. Well at least for a couple of days.

There didn't seem to be anyone around when he pulled out his GDO before carefully dialling Atlantis. The wormhole formed and John let out a sigh of relief when, after punching in his code, the unit transmitted it without a problem. Now all he had to do was wait for the signal to tell him that the shield was down.

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Chuck was just enjoying an early morning sip of coffee when the Stargate activated. He quickly turned to his monitor and announced. "Unscheduled off-world activation."

Rodney McKay muttered something under his breath about inconsiderate people before checking his computer for a recognition code. The bagel he was about to take a bite into dropped like a stone onto his laptop. Chuck threw him a look of astonishment. Rodney continued to stare at his laptop, open-mouthed.

When he eventually found his voice, Rodney spluttered. "You announce it."

Chuck did, even though his voice nearly broke on the words. "It's Colonel Sheppard's IDC."

The words sent Mr. Woolsey rushing from his office, probably the fastest anyone had ever seen him move. "What do you mean its Sheppard's IDC? It can't be?"

Chuck turned to his boss. "I've double checked. It's definitely correct."

Rodney simply nodded in agreement because the usually over talkative scientist was still speechless.

Woolsey looked thoughtful. "It could be an attempt to invade us. Whoever murdered the Colonel could have taken his GDO."

At that stupid statement, Rodney quickly recovered his voice. "Even if they did, they wouldn't know Sheppard's code." _Unless they tortured it out_ _of him_, Rodney thought, but he didn't voice that opinion.

Woolsey was still hesitant. "All right. Try making radio contact."

After several attempts to was clear that whoever was on the other side either didn't have a radio or was maintaining radio silence. Woolsey didn't like that at all, not one bit.

But Rodney had had enough. A gut feeling was telling him that things were fine. More than fine. "Oh, for god's sake lower the shield before something horrible happens."

Woolsey shook himself. "Very well, Chet, lower the shield and have a full contingent of marines standing by."

Chuck threw him a dirty look. Woolsey never got his name right, but now wasn't the right time to point it out. He hit the shield button, taking it offline, which automatically sent a signal to the waiting GDO.

The marine unit along with Major Lorne were quick to join the usual guards down below. The major went up the grand stairway to protect Woolsey and the others while the marines knelt, guns ready to defend the gate room at all cost.

The next few minutes went by without a sound or movement apart from the arrival of Ronon and Teyla. Every head was turned toward the event horizon just waiting to see who emerged. When the blue shimmer eventually ejected the lone figure of a stumbling man, partly dressed in military garb, everyone gasped.

Guns immediately lowered and footsteps pounded down the stairs as three people tried to reach the man they believed dead before he collapsed. Woolsey shouted for a medical team just as Ronon caught John's falling body.

The usually calm Teyla openly cried. She moved to John's side, gently touching him just to make sure he was real.

John fought to stay conscious. He even managed a weak smile before saying, "Hi, Teyla." She couldn't find a voice to answer him; her throat was too tight with emotion.

Rodney didn't have that problem, although his first attempt came out as a splutter until he got his tongue in working order. "How come you're here? We thought you were dead."

"Well…obliviously I'm not, but it's a…long story that will have to wait until...I...I really need to take a nap now." And that's exactly what John did as he finally allowed oblivion to claim him.

When the call came through, Jennifer Keller reacted with her usual calm efficiency. Gathering her team, she made her way to the gate room, prepared for any emergency. However, the sight of her patience's identity left her absolutely gobsmacked. John Sheppard was the last person she had expected to see but it didn't stop her caring for him. Getting over her initial shock, she quickly assessed his condition, then ordered the med team to take Sheppard immediately to the trauma unit.

"Why what's wrong with him?" Rodney asked with concern. They had only just got John back and they certainly didn't want to lose him again.

"I don't have time now, Rodney." With that, Jennifer rushed after her team leaving some very confused and anxious people behind. Of course, they didn't stay away for very long. The team and Woolsey quickly gathered in the infirmary, waiting anxiously for any news.

And throughout the city, speculation as to how Colonel Sheppard could possibly have survived began to run wild.

oOo

John cracked an eye open, saw all the high tech equipment near his head and let out a quiet sigh of relief. He'd finally made it. He was really back in Atlantis and it hadn't all been just a wonderful dream.

He carefully moved his left arm, finding it pain free for the first time in weeks, along with the rest of his body. _Must be on the good stuff._ He could feel the usual paraphernalia, I.V. port in the back of his hand, wired up enough to receive a subspace transmission, pulse oximeter on the middle, left hand finger and a dreaded catheter.

Wanting to get more comfortable, John squirmed and tried sitting up. Rodney immediately noticed and was on him like a ton of bricks. Raising the bed head and popping in an ice chip without John even asking for one.

John would have said, 'thanks', if he'd been given a chance but McKay had already started to babble. "Jennifer said you're going to be fine now. You scared us a little when they'd had to rush you into the OP to fix an internal bleed but that was yesterday. You were also badly dehydrated and had a nasty cut over your eye where a piece of metal got embedded. Oh, and has someone used you as a punching bag? Jennifer said you have some pretty spectacular bruising and several cracked ribs. Apart from that your nasty arm wound isn't fully healed yet and…err…there's what looks like a rope burn." Rodney pointed to John's neck and threw him a questioning look. "Care to explain how you got that?"

"Rodney," John murmured sleepily, "I'm not going to repeat things over and over, so we'll leave it until the rest of the team get here. OK?"

Rodney didn't look too pleased but he had to agree because John had already settled down for another snooze. But he was certainly going to make darn sure the whole team were present next time he woke.

oOo

It was a good five hours before John opened his eyes again. This time he felt a little better and more alert. And by the look of it his team were all present, leaving John to wonder if Rodney had arranged it. When he said something about it to McKay, the scientist just shrugged but the guilt was written all over his face. John smiled, he had really missed this and it was good to know that some things hadn't changed.

He knew Rodney was waiting on tender hooks for his story. So after a drink to clear his throat, John related the not so pleasant details of his miraculous escape from death. By the end, he felt a little drained but determined to stay awake to soak up his friends' companionship. Amazingly, Rodney had only interrupted once during his recount to mention finding the transmitter, so John laid back and waited for the questions to begin.

Instead, Rodney surprised him when he simply said, "I'm sorry."

John looked a little confused. "Huh…why?"

"Because I treated you like shit on the ship and I still don't know why."

"Yeah well, you did but…," John smiled, "maybe I wasn't their only victim. I'm just relieved you guys weren't killed by them."

"We are also very sorry, John." Teyla added after a subtle nod from Ronon. "We all thought you were really gone this time. We did not investigate the possibility that you could have survived."

"But you found the transmitter inside the fish, right?" They all nodded, "So it was a logical assumption that the damn fish had had me for its main course."

Rodney snorted. "With your skinny ass, more like a little snack."

"Thank you, Rodney. Whatever, just goes to show that the transmitters have their limitations. I said so at the time. They're great for beaming out or locating missing people when nothing interferes but they're also removable, either by design or in this case, bad luck."

"Yep…bad luck, but the other fishes helped rescue you, right?" Ronon asked

"Apparently. It's not unheard of. On Earth we have a species called dolphins. They've been known to rescue people from drowning." John chuckled. "The kid who found me on the beach seemed to have a special rapport with the Sanki. He swore they saved me twice, once from drowning and once by providing the healing seaweed gunk." John smiled inwardly. He decided not to mention the fact that Sev had encouraged him to go to beach and thank the sanki in person. It had been a strange encounter and had left John feeling calm and at peace, one of the rare times in his turbulent life. Unfortunately, the feeling hadn't lasted more than a day.

Rodney broke into John's thoughts when he pointed to his neck. "And that priest really wanted to hang you because of his beliefs?"

"Yeah…that's the danger of religious nutcases. Aldran truly believed I had done something evil by entering what he considered was the Ancestors' realm. I dread to think what he might have done if the jumper hadn't worked." A shudder passed through John as he stifled a yawn.

Teyla lightly touched his arm. "John, we are truly grateful that you were able to escape him. Now we will leave you to rest."

"But we haven't asked him what he plans to do about Brent and Sagro."

"Rodney, I am sure he will tell us when he is feeling a little stronger."

John nodded his agreement, grateful for Teyla's understanding. In a matter a seconds, he had dozed off.

Teyla and Ronon started to move away but Rodney stayed where he was. He was only forced to leave after Ronon yanked him by his jacket. Part of his reluctance was the fact that he still couldn't get over the miracle of his friend's survival. He was almost afraid that if he left John's side, he would simply disappear. Despite John's reassurance guilt still plagued him over the way he had treated his friend just before the attack, but like Sheppard had mentioned, maybe they had been victims.

Jennifer had a theory to that. She believed that the team had been given a substance that had somehow affected their normal response. Yet without hard evidence it was going to difficult to prove.

oOo

Rodney couldn't stay away for long. He returned three hours later to find John sitting up, struggling to eat a small sandwich from a tray still containing most of the supper that had been provided over half an hour before.

John didn't really feel like eating and the food tasted quite bland after Nealia's wonderful cooking. On the other hand, Rodney must have found it edible enough as he wasted no time in munching away the rest without even bothering to ask John's permission.

"That's my supper you're happily scoffing."

"As if you were going to eat it. I've known you long enough now to know if you're going to eat or not, and this evening it's a definite no, no."

"Yeah, okay, but don't think for minute this gives you the right to pinch my food all the time."

Rodney grinned around a mouth full of blue Jell-O. "Wouldn't dream of it. So what are you going to do about the terrible two?" Rodney asked around another mouthful.

John returned the smile. "I think we need to discuss that with Woolsey. Apparently, he came by an hour or so ago but I was still dozing."

"Yes, but…"

"Rodney! What are you doing here?" Jennifer's shout interrupted. "Colonel Sheppard needs his rest and you promised me that you wouldn't disturb him again until tomorrow." She moved up and roughly grabbed Rodney's arm, pulling him away. She just about gave him enough time to wish John a goodnight.

John watched them go and sighed with contentment. Even though he was stuck in the infirmary for at least another two days or so there was no place he'd rather be. Well other than his own quarters, if he still had one.

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Jennifer didn't sign John's release papers until three days later, with strict instructions to take it easy and sleep whenever he felt like it. He planned to follow her advice to the letter as his bruises were still causing him a great deal of discomfort and tenderness. He looked like someone had dabbed yellow, green and purple dye all over him, but he could live with that because he was healing and the wound on his arm was finally scabbing over. Jennifer had told him it would leave a scar, but it was one more amongst many. For some reason, his left arm had taken quite a few hits over the past few years.

After a long refreshing shower, John slowly pulled on the sweats and pants his team had brought him a few days earlier. When he'd finished, he emerged from the bathroom and stuffed his meagre belongings into a sports bag.

Then turning to Ronon, who had just arrived to accompany him, he said, "Right let's get out of here." The big guy went to grab the bag but John quickly snatched it and gave him a long-suffering look. "I'm not that weak."

Ronon's light shoulder slap nearly sent John flying into the bed. "Never thought you were." John gave him a big grin and headed on out of the infirmary, now very glad to see the back of the place.

They walked in companionable silence to John's old quarters. People greeted him along the way but nothing more. They knew well enough that the Colonel didn't like over exuberant, emotional contact, so they merely welcomed him back.

John's heart began to race when they neared the familiar room, as Ronon still wouldn't tell him if his things were still inside. At his touch, the door whooshed open. Thankfully, the room appeared unchanged. John smiled with relief as he moved over to his bed to drop his bag. Gratefully lowering himself next to it just as Rodney came rushing in with his skateboard

"Oops…didn't think you'd be here yet." Rodney quickly put the skateboard in its usual place.

John gave him a puzzled looked. "Okay, where did you find that?"

Rodney sighed. "One of your marines had it. All right, might as well tell you the truth. We believed you were really dead this time, and as you didn't leave any instructions concerning your belongings, we sort of offered them around…as a memento so to speak. We've managed to recover about ninety six percent."

"Only ninety six?"

"Well, it's difficult to give beer back, so I guess a few folks owe you one. And Marsha Cults took your copy of War and Peace. She would have given it back but she's already two thirds through."

John laughed. "I never got that far in five years. Tell her she can keep it until she's finished."

"You tell her, you know she's got the hots for you. Never seen a woman cry so much at your memorial service."

John look astounded. "You had a memorial service for me?" Then a dreadful thought flashed. "You haven't told Dave I'm dead, have you?"

"Of course we had a memorial service for you and Dave thinks you're MIA, presumed dead. We were going to tell him for definite at a later date."

John exchanged a worried look. "The Air Force hasn't written me off, have they?"

"They're sending a replacement."

"What! You failed to mention that little gem." Ronon and Rodney exchanged a guilty look.

"Didn't think you were ready to hear that, Sheppard." Ronon muttered.

"Woolsey failed to mention it either. So who's the replacement?"

"Some Air Force Colonel by the name of Wilkinson." Rodney supplied.

"You've got to be kidding me? That asshole!"

Rodney looked puzzled. "You know him?"

"Had the misfortune of dealing with him during my stint with the SGC. He's a real by the book officer, a true stickler for the correct protocol. Can't understand why they're sending him. When is he supposed to be arriving?"

"With the Apollo. It's due in a couple of days."

John looked alarmed. He quickly rose and headed for the door, saying, "OK, I don't care what Jennifer says, let's go see Woolsey."

Rodney had to run to keep up with him. "What did Jennifer say?"

"That I wasn't supposed to leave my quarters today, but this is just too darn important to ignore. What if the IOA or the SGC used this situation as an excuse for a change of command?"

Rodney stopped dead in his tracks, nearly getting balled over by Ronon. The Satedan grabbed him just as Rodney muttered. "Oh, God."

John was so concerned that by the time he reached Woolsey's office, he was panting for breath. It wasn't all due to exertion. His career could really be on the line this time. He nearly ended up skidding into Woolsey's desk, which wouldn't have done his bruises a favour.

Woolsey looked up with a questioning face. "Colonel, I thought Dr. Keller told you to rest in your quarters today."

"She…," John paused for a minute to catch his breath, "did, but Rodney…just told me about Colonel Wilkinson coming...to take my job."

"Ah…a sticky situation that has cost me some headaches over the last few days, but rest assured, Colonel. As long as you don't die on us again, nobody will be in command of the military here other than you." John let out an audible sigh of relief.

Ronon squeezed his shoulder. "They'd be crazy to replace you."

Rodney looked delighted. He turned to Woolsey. "So what are we going to do about Wilkinson?"

"I have his new orders here." Woolsey held up a plain brown envelope. "It seems Colonel Wilkinson will be making the return trip to Earth, and he is not to interfere with the running of Atlantis in any shape or form, even though you will be on sick leave for at least another week or so, Colonel. Major Lorne can continue his fine work until you are fit for duty."

The men exchanged a sly smiled. "I'd love to see Wilkinson's face when you hand him that envelope." John stated.

Woolsey also exchanged a wily smile. "I don't think he's going to be very pleased. Now gentlemen, if you would kindly leave me in peace, I have work to do. Oh, and Colonel, if you don't want Dr. Keller on your case, I would return to your quarters if I were you."

John nodded. "Yep, but don't we need to talk about Brent and co."

"All in good time. When Keller gives you the go-ahead, we will sit down and discuss our next move."

"Fine." John didn't like it but right now he was feeling pretty exhausted. He quickly said his goodbyes and headed straight back to his quarters, like a good boy for once.

oOo

As predicted, Colonel Wilkinson had been less than pleased upon receiving his new orders. Short of shooting Sheppard there hadn't been a thing he could do about it. So being an officer and a gentleman, he had taken his disappointment like a man. After a full tour of the city, Wilkinson had returned to the Apollo to spend the remainder of his stay onboard.

On the other hand, Colonel Ellis had whooped for joy and had told Woolsey that they had escaped a fate worse than having a Genii commander running the cities military. Ellis had not approved of the appointment of Wilkinson and had told General Landry repeatedly that he wasn't the right man for the job. However nothing he could say had changed the general's mind. When Ellis had gone to see Sheppard, he had hugged the younger man briefly, leaving John stunned by his very unmilitary-like behaviour.

Now a week later, John was finally given clearance to return to light duty. The first order of the day was the meeting to discuss how to deal with his assailants.

Woolsey sat at the head of the table as John's team along with Major Lorne took up their usual places. John came in last after being delayed by Keller, who had wanted to check his arm one final time just to be on the safe side. He quickly apologised and took his seat next to Teyla.

"So now that we are all here, I can tell you that Councillor Kelore has failed to come up with any evidence of wrong doing against Shiana. She hasn't meet with anyone other than her fellow councillors and aids, and she most certainly hasn't gone off-world during the five weeks since the murder attempt."

"Have you informed Councillor Kelore or the coalition of the colonel's survival?" Major Lorne wanted to know.

"No not yet, I found it prudent to keep that information to ourselves for now. They will no doubt find out soon enough once you start going off-world again, Colonel."

John nodded. "Yeah, but before I do that, I want to deal with Brent. And what about that jumper I crashed?"

Woolsey looked surprised. "Didn't your team tell you? Dr. Zelenka and a team of engineers recovered it as soon as you informed us of its whereabouts. It's currently in our jumper bay undergoing more extensive repairs and checks."

John threw McKay a scathing look. The scientist held up his hands in defence. "Sorry, forgot to tell you. From the state that jumper was in, it's a miracle you made it as far as you did."

John smirked. "The Force must have been with me."

Rodney snorted. "More likely the Ancestors."

"I thought they couldn't interfere?"

"Seeing as you're on such good terms with one of them…"

Woolsey held up his hand. "Gentlemen, let's keep on track shall we. Of course you can deal with Brent before any other missions, Colonel. And hopefully Shiana's involvement will also come to light." Woolsey turned to Evan. "What's the latest word from our people on Alesis?"

This time John threw everyone a scathing look. "We have people...on the planet? How come that information was also withheld?"

"Because you were off-duty and so far having observers there has proven useless. Both Brent and Sagro have gone about their daily lives as per normal and neither have been off-world."

"Okay, now there's my input and I don't suppose for a minute they considered I might have survived."

Lorne replied with a happy smile. "Don't suppose they did, sir." He then turned to address Woolsey. "Unfortunately our observers still haven't anything new to report."

Woolsey slowly nodded. "Very well, so how do we proceed from here? Any suggestions?"

"I'll confront them directly and see how they react."

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea, Colonel. We don't want to spook them." Woolsey said in all seriousness.

The team looked at each other and burst out laughing. When John got his breath back, he replied. "Spook them. Oh, that's a good one. Maybe I should do just that." Woolsey looked ready to object. "No really, the team could snoop around Sagro's shop and distract him. Then I'll suddenly appear out of nowhere. He'll probably wet his pants and tell us everything."

"Oh...and how do you intend getting to his shop without passing through the market hall and that horrible old witch?"

"Good question, Rodney. I'll go in disguise until I reach Sagro's shop."

"You're serious about this aren't you?"

"Yes, I am. I thought Brent's vendetta was a personal one. Then you mentioned Shiana's possible involvement. And well, if we don't put a stop to it now, she may just try again and next time it could be against one of you or someone else on Atlantis."

Teyla turned to John. "Even if it was only a vendetta against you, I believe these people should be brought to justice. What they did to you was very wrong."

There was a general agreement around the table. John sat back and simply nodded his thanks. Grateful that is friends cared so much.

It took them a while but eventually a plan was hatched out, one that would hopefully bring John's assailants to justice. As everyone started to trail out of the conference room, Rodney signalled that he would like a private word with John.

John sat back down, wondering what the heck his friend wanted. "Okay what's on your mind?"

Rodney came straight to the point. "Once we've nabbed your killers, I'd like to go back to the island and have a look at that lab."

John slowly shook his head, only thankful that McKay hadn't brought this up in front of Woolsey. The IOA man would probably have jumped at the idea. "Rodney...," he sighed, "as much as I know you'd love to explore the place, it ain't happening." John held up his hand as Rodney looked ready to protest, "The islanders are very sincere about their beliefs. They truly believe the Ancestors are gods, so to trample all over their temple would be...well...tantamount to what the Spanish did to the Incas. On a much smaller scale of course."

"Well we aren't going to go in there killing, raping and plundering their wealth."

"Rodney, their belief in the Ancestors is their wealth. No matter how careful we are, we'll still be taking that away. I've already done enough damage. I don't want to do any more."

"But..."

"There's no but, Rodney. We may not agree with them. We may even consider them crazy but we have no right to force ourselves on them or destroy their beliefs for a few Ancient relics."

"Oh come on, we wouldn't be going with guns blazing."

John sighed again. "It could come to that. You have no idea how fanatical Aldran is. I believe he and his followers would fight hard and even die to preserve their convictions. His people only turned against him this time because they considered his punishment of me too harsh. I'd probably still be on the island if he had just kept me locked up."

Rodney thought about that long and hard. "So we actually find an intact Ancient outpost and there's nothing we can do about it? Have you considered it may even hold the true key to ZPM production?"

"I doubt it. Looking around I got the impression it was just a repair shop. One room had a large number of closets and draws. All empty I might add. Next to it was a large hanger, also empty apart from the jumper. Guess the place was abandoned when the Wraith got too close. It was my luck they left the jumper behind."

"Oh, yes, one that nearly killed you."

"But it didn't. It got me off the island and I have no intention of ever returning. I owe that much to Nealia and her family. They're good people, Rodney. I don't want to ruin their lives any further."

McKay slowly nodded. John got up and clapped him on the shoulder. "There'll be another time. Just do me a favour and don't put the idea into Woolsey's head."

Rodney did his own little sigh. "Okay," he muttered, "Maybe it's for the best, the lab would probably have blown up in our faces anyway."

John chuckled. "Knowing our luck, more than likely."

TBC 

_Sorry it's another fairly short chapter. RL and all that. Promise a longer one in the coming days. Please review. _


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Two days later, the plan was set in motion. Major Lorne and his team, dressed as local traders, had left some thirty minutes ago. They were to act as backup for Sheppard and his team.

Rodney, Ronon and Teyla gathered in the gate room and were just about to leave when Sheppard arrived dressed from head to toe in a long, light brown robe. A big hood concealed his face; giving Rodney had a horrible sense of déjà vu. John's choice of clothing looked so much like the robe he had worn when turning into a bug. Only this time, the robe was of a better quality being the dress mode of a wealthy Sulkan trader. Ideal for John's disguise because the Sulkan people traded on a regular basis with the market keepers of Mendora, so no one would question his presence and no one would confront him, as the traders were held in high esteem.

Sheppard didn't say anything as he gave a subtle nod. His team turned as one and approached the event horizon. Seconds later, the blue shimmer swallowed them. John watched them leave, then went to sit on the bottom step of the central stairway. He had a twenty minute wait before following. They had planned on taking a jumper but in the end it was determined that the risk of someone seeing them leaving the vehicle and tipping off Sagro or Brent was just too high.

After the walk from the Stargate, John's team stayed near the fish market until they spotted Sheppard in his long robes. He acknowledged them with another subtle nod. Then without making contact, the team proceeded toward the market hall and Sagro's untidy shop.

Teyla was first to enter. Predictably Sagro immediately rushed from his private alcove to serve his customers. His faced dropped when he saw the Atlantis team. "Oh…I...I thought you had decided to leave me in peace. What can I do for you now? Or have you come to reimburse the money for the ferry and meal." He asked, managing to give off an air of exasperation and hope.

The team looked astounded. Rodney spoke up first. "Oh right, that's a good one. If you remember the captain didn't charge us and the meal made Sheppard sick, which inadvertently caused his death. So you'll get nothing from us."

"But...but..."

"No buts!" Ronon boomed, "Thought we'd trade with you." He clapped the man hard on shoulder nearly sent him head first into his junk.

Sagro quickly gained his balance and spluttered. "But what could we possibly trade?"

Rodney casually snooped around, giving the junk little attention. Then he clicked his figures. "Yes…yes, how about some…err…nice jewellery for my girlfriend."

Teyla smiled. "And I am sure you have something to give a child."

The merchant held up his hands. "I do not keep play things." Teyla pulled a very disgruntled face.

While Sagro was busy dealing with his team mates, Ronon wondered over to scrutinize some interesting looking old swords. Although when he picked one up, he could see it was poorly made and very blunt. Sagro saw him out of his corner of his eye and quickly rushed over to pull him away. "Please do not handle the merchandise!" It was an admirable attempt but he quickly gave up trying to move Ronon. Instead, he went about tiding the objects near the old swords.

Ronon gave the merchant a glare and placed the useless weapon back on the counter. He let his eyes drift over more of the useless trash. Nothing seemed interesting but just as he was about to walk away a distinct shape suddenly caught his eye. The object had been hasty covered with an old cloth and despite the merchant's protests Ronon pulled back the material to reveal a very familiar item.

The Satedan grabbed it and swung around to face the merchant. "Where the hell did you get this!" He growled angrily into Sagro's face.

Ronon's shout immediately attracted Rodney and Teyla. They moved over to look at the object. Rodney gasped. "That's Colonel Sheppard's handgun."

Sagro held up his hands. "Oh no, no! You must be mistaken."

Grabbing the shorter man roughly by his collar, Ronon rumbled dangerously, "No mistake. Now where did you get it?"

Before Sagro could say anything, the door chime announced someone's entry. He tried to struggle out of Ronon's grip. "Please, I need to see to my customer."

Reluctantly, Ronon let him go. The podgy merchant quickly straightened his clothing before approaching the newcomer. "How can I help you, trusted trader from Sulkan?"

"Well that all depends." Sheppard said in a deep, gravelly voice before pushing back the hood of his robe. "You see the last time we met…you...murdered...me." Sagro went whiter than the ghost John was supposed to be playing. He silently slithered to the floor like a dropped blob of Jell-O.

John shrugged his shoulders and turned to the others. They all gasped.

"Oh, nice one, Sheppard. Aren't you taking things a little too far?" Rodney asked upon seeing the white theatrical make-up covering his friend's face.

John grinned. "Well, I was supposed to spook him, so I dressed up for the part." Moving over to Ronon, John reclaimed his gun, inspecting it closely. It was still loaded. "Sagro or Brent must have taken this off me when I was incapacitated." Checking the safety catch, John shoved the gun under his robes, not far from the one he already had on him. "Does anyone have anything I could use to wipe this gunk off?"

Teyla reached into her TAC vest and handed over several baby wipes. "I believe these should remove it."

"Thanks and no comments." John warned before removing the make-up as best he could. "Now lets shut-up shop and get this piece of shit to talk."

Teyla quickly moved to the door to slide over two securing bolts. John nodded and stood towering over the merchant who was just stirring from his fainting fit. He signalled Ronon. The big guy grabbed Sagro by the collar, forcibly dragging him into the little office before dropping him unceremoniously onto a chair.

John pulled up a wooden box to sit on. "So Sagro, I'd like a little information and if you cooperate then nothing will happen to you. If you don't…." John flexed his fingers. So did Ronon.

Sagro swallowed hard. "How…how could you have possibly survived?" He asked in a voice a few octaves higher than normal.

"That's not important right now. First off, I want you to explain why you helped Brent execute his murder plan. Then I want you to invite him to your shop."

"Oh...Colonel Sheppard, I…I cannot do that! He will kill me for sure."

"Not if he's in jail, and if you want to avoid the same fate, then I suggest you cooperate."

Sagro looked sick. Perspiration dripped off his pasty face. He swallowed hard again, nervously pulling on his collar. "Could I have some water please?" He gasped.

John looked up at Teyla and she handed him a water bottle. He held it under Sagro's nose. "You can have some when you decide to cooperate."

Sagro nodded. "I will tell you all there is to know, Colonel, if you promise to keep Brent and that wicked son of his away from me."

"Sure. If things go according to plan, Brent and the boy will be handed over to the appropriate authority. Now why did you help him?"

"Brent approached me many days before you arrived. He told me of the evil doings of the people of Atlantis, particularly you Colonel. He said you alone were responsible for the death of millions of humans because of your cooperation with the Wraith and beings known as the Asurans."

"My cooperation with the Wraith?"

"Yes, he said you woke the Wraith and invited them to feed on countless human worlds." Sagro pulled on his collar again. "Of course, since then I have found out differently."

"I sure hope so. Whatever lies Brent feed you most certainly aren't true."

Sagro began to calm down. "Yes, yes, I know that now. I am truly glad you survived. I am sure it must have been a miracle only the Ancestors would have granted."

Out of the corner of his eye, John saw Rodney's roll his eyes. He ignored it along with Sagro's statement to simply say. "I had help. Now are you going aid us or not?" As a good will gesture and an inventive, John gave him the water bottle.

Sagro nodded and gulped greedily. "Brent promised me payment for helping but I have yet to receive the full amount. Apart from your gun, he has only given me a quarter of the agreed upon sum. The other men involved now feel the same way. I am sure they regret their actions."

"And the old woman?"

Sagro laughed, making his stomach wobble alarmingly. "As I said before she is just a harmless old fool. Demaris truly believes she has special powers, but in reality her spells rarely work."

"Then why was I so ill?"

"Demaris may not be good at casting spells but she makes very powerful potions. Brent obtained the necessary tasteless substance from her and then his good for nothing son laced your glass. That's what caused your stomach problems and your friends' glasses were laced with another substance that made them, how can I describe it…err…less caring, almost irritated by your presence. The substance is based on pheromones and worked best on Doctor McKay and the fair lady here. The big man was not so affected. We had some trouble luring him away from you but then Brent thought of the idea of a challenge to show off his strength. He accepted without hesitation."

Rodney looked distressed, as did Teyla. John looked up at them. "It doesn't mean you're less caring then Ronon. Just the damn potion affected you more. So forget it, right?"

"All right, John, but…" John held up his hand to silence her. Teyla relinquished and nodded with a smile.

Rodney wasn't so sure he could forgive himself that easily but he murmured, "Okay."

"Right, that's settled then. Now we need to apprehend Brent." John turned back to Sagro. "Even though I'm finding it very hard to forgive your actions, it would go a long way if you help us corner him. I want him to confess and tell us who was really behind the murder plot."

"Oh, he did mention having an off-world contact."

"Well that's something. Didn't happen to give a name did he?"

Sagro shook his head. "I am sorry, but no. You know, Colonel, luring him here is not such a good idea, as he never comes to my shop but if I invite him to my home you can question him there."

John thought about it for a moment before turning to his team. "Was there any chance that Brent or his son saw you in the market place?"

Before anyone else could answer him, Sagro spoke again. "I very much doubt it. This is one of the days he normally goes out with his boat and his son would have gone with him."

"That's good. How long does he stay out?"

Sagro's jowls quivered. "Oh, Brent is a very lazy man. He fishes for no more than a few time parts and comes in not long after the sun has reached its highest. I will meet him after the midday meal and see if I can get him to come to my home. You can wait there while I fetch him."

"Very well but any tricks and it will be the last thing you do. And don't tell anyone I'm alive. Is that understood?"

"Oh, absolutely, Colonel."

"Alright then, give us the directions to your home and we'll see you later with Brent and his son."

Sagro nodded and scribbled the directions on a piece of paper. "I will try my best to persuade them but they may not come."

"Find a way." With that, John stood to move out of Sagro's earshot. He placed the hood over his head and turned to Rodney. "I'll go first, give me an hour and then make your way to his house."

"What? I'm not spending the next hour in this shop." Thankfully, Rodney kept his voice low.

John sighed. "Go find something to eat then but don't make your way to his house until the hour is up. Oh, and contact Major Lorne. Tell him to keep a good eye on Sagro. I still don't trust him.

The team agreed, although Rodney muttered something about not wanting to eat any more food on this planet...thanks very much. John smiled and left them to it.

oOo

John didn't go straight to Sagro's house. Instead, after leaving the busy market place, he ambled along the waterfront until he found a quiet area to wait. Finding a low wall to sit on, John looked across the deep blue sea and pondered. He never really wanted to return to this planet. Too many bad memories of how it had nearly become his final resting place. Looking across the calm sea now, he found it hard not to relive the horror of being thrown overboard and left to drown. If it hadn't been for the Sanki and Nealia's wonderful care, this planet most certainly would have been his grave.

John spared a few minutes to glance in the general direction of the Saratu Island. Several weeks had passed since his hasty departure and he couldn't help but wonder how Nealia and her family were coping with the changes his short stay may have brought upon them. Hopefully, Aldran had been put in his place. His thoughts turned to happier memories and a small smile adorned his face when he thought of Nealia's attempt at matchmaking. Sari had been pleasant enough and John sincerely hoped that she wouldn't be forced to marry the nerdy guy from the harvest festival but she certainly wasn't his type. Far too homely.

The sound of a pebbles shifting against each other drew his thoughts away from the island. John turned to see two figures walking along a small shingle beach some fifty or so metres away. His heart nearly stopped when he recognised Brent and his son. John quickly turned away, pulling the hood closer to his head but they didn't even glance his way as they continued to walk toward a small slipway, leaving the beach behind them.

Standing up, John decided to follow them at a discreet distance. At first, it wasn't entirely clear where they were heading but after a short diversion into the market to sell their catch, Brent and his son headed out along the path leading to the Stargate. Keeping his hood up and his head low, John walked behind them. Still keeping a safe distance.

When the path straightened for quite a way, John slowed his pace and pulled out his radio to contacted Ronon. "Change of plan. Brent and his kid are heading for the Gate. I'm going to keep tabs on them and if they go through, I may just follow."

"_You want us to come to the Gate?"_

John thought about it for less than a second. "Yeah, but don't show yourselves."

"_Right, we're heading out."_

John switched channels to contact Lorne, telling him to continue keeping tabs on Sagro. Once the Major had sent his acknowledgement, John quickly played catch up. Although due to the flatness of the land, he had never really lost sight of them.

They eventually arrived at the Stargate and Brent immediately stepped up to the DHD. John quickly found a place of concealment, and from his vantage point behind a thick bush, he watched as Brent tapped in a gate address. He tried to memorise the pattern, writing it hastily on a piece of sticky back paper. John made his move the second Brent and his son disappeared into the event horizon. Rushing up to the DHD, he slapped the note down, hoping that no one found it before his team. Then quickly drawing his gun, the one he'd bought from Atlantis, he dashed into the event horizon before it could shut down.

TBC

_What's waiting for John on the other side? Final chapter coming up soon. Please review.  
_


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

As John had told Sev only weeks before, the Ancients were very predictable in what kind of landscape they had placed their Stargates. Whichever planet he was now on, the terrain could be mistaken for many other locations, including the one John had just left. With one exception, here the trees were more densely placed but that would only help to conceal John's presence from the two unsuspecting wrongdoers.

At first, John couldn't see any sign of Brent or his kid but he hadn't spent the last four years with Ronon without picking up a thing or two about tracking. He wasn't anywhere near as good as the ex-runner. However it didn't take him long to find some freshly placed footprints on a patch of slightly damp, sandy ground. There were two sets walking side by side. John hastened his pace along the winding path and within minutes, he caught sight of his quarry. They were heading towards a wooden shack.

When they arrived at the shack, John watched them from behind the trunk of an extremely large tree, not unlike a Sequoia. Brent looked around before cautiously opening the simple wooden door. Slipping inside with his son, he secured the door behind them.

The shack sported two dirty looking windows placed either side of the door. Being careful not to trip up on his long robe, John quietly approached the nearest window. Keeping his head low, he tried to peer through the murky, cobweb covered glass but it was hard to see anything. Carefully, he brushed away some of the web, only to quickly move his hand away when a large red and black spider emerged from a nest of silk in one corner. Not knowing whether it was poisonous or not, John wisely moved to the opposite window. That one wasn't quite so dirty. Through it John could just make out Brent, his son and one other person in the shack's single room. Whoever it was appeared to be female from the statue and style of clothing.

The boy suddenly turned his way. John quickly lowered his head and waited silently, not even daring to breathe in case the youth had spotted him. The minutes ticked by and thankfully nobody emerged to confront him.

When a raised voice called out, John dared another peek. The tone was undeniably female. John froze when he suddenly recognized the voice. It sounded an awful lot like Councillor Shiana's. And sure enough, when he looked again he could just make her out when a shaft of light highlighted her distinct features and long, jet black hair.

Turning away, John crouched under the windowsill, unsure about what to do next. Should he confront them or wait for his team to arrive? However, a few minutes later the decision was abruptly taken out of his hands, when it became oblivious that the rendezvous was about to break up.

John stood and held his gun firmly, heading for the still closed door. He wanted to confront them before they left the confines of the small hut. Less likely to escape that way and he was just about to turn the doorknob, when he came face to face with Shiana.

Because of John's hooded head, there was no recognition. Shiana just scowled at him and demanded. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

John held his gun pointed at her while he pushed the hood back. "Why did you ask Brent to kill me?"

To give Shiana her dues, after her initial shock, she quickly recovered. "This cannot be? You assured me he was dead, Brent?"

Brent looked dumbfounded. "He was," he spluttered, "I mean, we threw him overboard. There is no way he could have survived the cold sea."

"Obliviously you failed to take into account that I am a very good swimmer." John didn't want to mention the Sanki just in case the killer somehow got away and took his revenge out on the hapless creatures.

Hearing John's statement, Brent got over his shock and moved to Shiana's side. "Oh come on, Sheppard, no one could swim that far and you were incapacitated by the potion we laced your glass with. You were as sick as a muggie."

John didn't know what the heck a muggie was, maybe some kind of dog. "Nice of you to admit your guilt. Now, everyone back up against the far wall!" John ordered, holding the gun on them as they did as he requested. In fact, Brent's son looked ready to shit bricks. Not so cocky now with a deadly weapon pointed at him.

Shiana looked more shaken by the current situation than John's earlier appearance. "What are you going to do, execute us?"

John gave her a wide-eyed stare. "I do not kill humans in cold blood."

"No, you just get the enemy to do it for you," Shiana spat out, throwing him a look of pure hatred.

John sighed in frustration. The councillor was an impossible woman. "I think that was all explained during the trial. We had no idea that the Asurans would use humans as a weapon against the Wraith. At the time, it didn't even dawn on us that they would stoop so low. I'm truly sorry about the human loss, but the actions of Asurans also eliminated countless Wraith. Many human lives were spared a culling."

Shiana's hatred didn't wane. "And that is supposed to justify your actions. You are even more arrogant than I thought."

John shook his head. "No, it does not. If we had known what they had planned, we would have tried to stop them earlier. We risked life and limb to bring about their eventual destruction."

"That does not bring back our people. I wanted your life forfeited as retribution for the loss of my husband and children."

John looked stricken. "And that's supposed make you feel better? Don't you think I suffer enough just knowing that people like your family are no longer alive because of some action I may taken. There isn't a day go by that I don't blame myself for something or other. But unlike some people, I'm trying to do something about it. I'm trying to eliminate the Wraith and other threats so that this galaxy can be a safer place to live."

Shiana had the decency to look slightly shamefaced but her loathing was still very evident. Her next words confirmed it. "You are just one of many who fight the Wraith. Your loss would have been insignificant."

"Nice! That makes me feel a whole lot better."

Shiana didn't say anything to that. She just kept throwing him looks of extreme revulsion. It was unnerving and John sincerely hoped that his team soon showed up. However as the minutes ticked by, he began to wonder what the heck was keeping them. Guarding three people with just a handgun needed all his attention. Unfortunately, he didn't have anything to tie them up with, as he had not come prepared for this particular scenario. Moving them back to the Stargate was also out of the question, so he would just have to wait it out.

The sound of footsteps outside announced that his vigil was about to end. John moved away from the door, still keeping his gun firmly pointed at his three captives. Expecting to see his team, John was taken by surprise when four heavily armed men entered. They were wearing uniforms he'd seen before on the coalition guards. Suddenly four guns, similar to Genii weapons, were pointing in his direction.

John kept his nerve, keeping his gun steady on his captives. "I hope you're here to represent the Councillor Kelore?"

The men looked at him strangely. Unfortunately for John one of them had a stun weapon and before John could react, a blue light struck him in the chest. He immediately sank to the floor and the gun was forcibly yanked out of his hand.

Moving away from the wall, Shiana and the others let out a sigh of relief. One of the men stepped forward to speak. "We got here as quickly as we could, Councillor. Who is this man and why was he holding a gun on you?"

Shiana looked anything but pleased. "Where were you? You were supposed to be my bodyguards and yet you let this piece of slime slip by you."

The guard didn't know what to say to that. Believing that there hadn't been a threat, they had gone a short distance for a quiet drink and smoke. Returning to the shack a few minutes ago, they were surprised when the place appeared to be too quiet. So they had entered to see if there was a problem. "I am truly sorry but…"

"Oh never mind, we will speak of this matter later."

Turk moved over to John's prone body, planting a hefty kick in his side. The stun blast hadn't been very powerful and John was already beginning to stir. He grunted softly when the boy's kick ignited pain in his still healing ribs.

John heard Brent asked, "What are we going to do about this piece of slime then?" Before he was abruptly yanked upright by his hood.

He stood on shaky legs. This wasn't looking too good. _Where the hell were his team?_

Shiana's voice betrayed no indecision when she answered. "You will finish what you attempted to do, cousin."

Brent nodded, he wasn't at all hesitant. With the help of one of the guards, he pushed the Colonel to his knees and asked for his gun. Holding the nine mil near his victim's head, he smirked. "This time, Sheppard, you will stay dead."

Seeing as the smelly man appeared to have everything under control, the four bodyguards decided to leave the tight confines of the small shack. They didn't know who the man was but if the councillor thought it necessary to execute him, then she must have a very good reason.

Once they were gone, Brent turned to his son. "Turk, go and join them outside. There is no need for you to stay and witness this execution."

"But pa!"

"You go now!" The boy threw his father a disgruntled look before obeying.

Now that he was alone with just Brent and Shiana, John knew he just might stand a chance. With an effort, he managed to lift his head to look directly at Shiana. Without showing fear, his eyes betrayed disbelief and sadness that she could still be so cold-blooded.

Brent smirked, enjoying every minute of having John at his mercy. His finger moved to pull back the trigger.

oOo

John's team were worried. They'd been delayed from following Sheppard by an urgent message from Atlantis. It seemed that Shiana had left for an unknown destination with several bodyguards, and the fact that Brent was also on the move couldn't be just a coincidence. On top of that, Sheppard's dialling sequence hadn't been quite right. It had taken several tries to get a positive lock.

Thankfully, once they had arrived on the right planet, it hadn't taken Ronon more than a few minutes to pick up the trail. Dashing through the woods at an alarming rate, he left McKay huffing and puffing many paces behind. Teyla was somewhere between, keeping up her own fast pace.

oOo

Over in the shack, John prepared to act. He had to do it quickly if he stood any chance of getting out of this alive. The effect of the stun blast was finally beginning to ease off, so he was just about clear-headed enough to make a move. It was oblivious that Brent wasn't used to handling a gun as he was holding it within arm's reach. Counting his blessings that they had thought to restrain his hands, John took a risk and swiftly lashed out with his right hand, knocking the gun aside with a powerful chop.

The gun roared and a bullet discharged to strike somewhere. Unfortunately, Brent somehow managed to retain a hold on the weapon. He swiftly bought it around to take aim again just as John slammed his body into the man's legs, knocking them both to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

Brent was incredibly strong and he hadn't been stunned a few minutes ago. With a powerful push, he quickly got the upper hand, rolling John over and pinning him under his body weight. The overwhelming stench of fish was nearly enough to knock John out. He ignored it as his life depended on freeing himself. Despite being still a little weak in the legs, he brought his knee up, firmly connecting with Brent's lower groin. Unfortunately not in the most painful place. However it was enough to dislodge the stinking man. John righted himself and got in a few punches before Brent could fully recover.

Annoyed by the turn of events, Brent resorted to dirty tricks, biting John firmly in the hand. A yelp of pain escaped John's lips before he could stop it but he used the same hand to strike the man as hard as he could across the nose. A satisfactory crunch and a spurt of blood told John that he had probably broken the stinking man's nose. However, it didn't incapacitate Brent for long and he soon had John pinned down again.

Unfortunately, Brent still had the handgun firmly in his grip. He attempted to bring it around to finish John off. John couldn't see the gun but he felt the barrel scrape his arm. In a desperate bid to keep the gun away, John latched onto Brent's wrist with his left hand, pushing as hard as he could while fumbling under his robes with his other hand.

The frantic struggle continued as each tried to get the upper hand. The gun inched closer and closer to John's chest. Any minute now Brent would pull the trigger and end it.

Suddenly, the sound of a gun discharging filled the air. Ronon heard it and raced for the shack. Pounding through the door, totally ignoring the guards and the boy waiting outside. He took in the scene before him and fearing the worst, he aimed his weapon at the prone figure of fisherman before yanking the smelly man off his friend. Brent wasn't moving.

John looked up and gave the Satedan a weary smile. "What took you so long?"

Ronon's face lit with a huge grin and he pointed to John's not so clean robe. "I hope that's not any of yours?" John shook his head. "Good…well you didn't get the sequence quite right, buddy."

"Oh damn. Obliviously McKay worked it out."

"I…most…certainly…did." Rodney huffed and puffed as he practically fell into the shack, totally worn out. Then he saw all the blood and went white.

John sat up. "It's his." He pointed to Brent before checking the man's pulse. "He's dead. Thank god I had the other gun. Managed to use it before he could shoot me. "

"No great loss." Ronon muttered. "What about her?" he asked, pointing to the prone figure of Shiana.

John stood up and staggered over to her. "How did she get shot?" A stupid question really, as the only other witness was dead, but it was more for his own benefit. He examined the woman, finding her still alive even though the leg wound was bleeding profusely. Ronon handed John a small knife and he used it slit her tunic pants to reveal the bullet hole.

"McKay, you got a pressure bandage on you?" John asked.

Rodney reached into his TAC vest to pull out the requested item. "Want my belt?"

John nodded just as Shiana started to stir. She took one look at him and tried to move away.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you, you've got a nasty leg wound and I need to stop the bleeding." John told her.

The councillor managed to find her voice. "Why are you helping me?"

Quickly fastening the bandage around her wound and securing the belt as tightly as he dared, John answered. "Because despite what you may think of me, I am not a cold bloodied killer. Now we need to get you to Atlantis as quickly as possible. Where's Teyla?"

"Keeping an eye on Shiana's people and his brat," Rodney explained, shooting a look of disgust at Brent's body.

"Guess I've got one more enemy to contend with. The kid's going to blame me for his death." Then John suddenly realised what he had just said. Despite the oblivious pain she was in, Shiana threw him a look of horror at being told her cousin was dead.

John held up his hands. "Now look, Brent was going to shoot me in the head. What was I supposed to do, stand by and let it happen? I want to live as much as anyone." John ignored Rodney's soft snort.

Shiana couldn't argue with that, she knew Brent's aggressive behaviour had lead to his death. However, he was yet one more family member she had lost to Sheppard's actions. It was going to be impossible to forgive. "I do not wish to go to Atlantis. If you cannot get me home, then I would prefer death."

John looked frustrated. "We can take care of you…"

"I think it is better if we deal with it, Colonel Sheppard."

John spun around and looked up to see Kelore. "Councillor."

Kelore nodded his greetings and came straight to the point. "How was she injured?"

John stood up and explained everything, at least an abridged version.

"Then it is good to see that you survived again, Colonel. I am truly sorry for the pain this woman has caused you. We will take her off your hands now."

"She needs urgent medical care."

"Rest assured, we will see that she is cared for and then…."

"Oh, that's just great." Rodney interrupted. "Do you know the agro this woman has put us through?"

"Rodney, let the councillor finish." Although Rodney didn't like it, he kept quiet.

"Thank you, Colonel. Rest assured she will be dealt with according to our laws and I'm afraid to say that could mean exile or imprisonment."

Despite her injuries, Shiana held her head up high. "I am ready the face my punishment."

John had to admire her for that. "What about Brent's kid?"

Kelore looked puzzled for a second. "Oh, you mean the insolent boy outside. We will take him with us and see to it that he gets a proper education."

John nodded. "Thanks and don't tell him I killed his father or I'll have to watch my back in a few years time."

"Do not worry, we will tell him it was an accident."

"Well it was, kind of." John muttered. "Oh, and I can't remember if the planet of Alesis has any formal agreed with the Coalition?"

"No, I am sorry but that particular planet is not aligned with us. Is there a problem?"

John looked disappointed. "That's the planet where Brent carried out his assassination plot and he used several locals to help him, in particular a man called Sagro Lorenz."

"I see and Alesis has no real justice system, especially when it comes to crimes against outsiders."

John nodded "You got it."

"I am so sorry, Colonel, but it looks as if the man will go unpunished then."

"Unfortunately, yeah. Although he was only in for the money, so I just hope he's learnt his lesson and doesn't try anything like it again."

Kelore looked sincere. "I dare say he has."

With that, John stood back as several men entered to carry Shiana out. She pointedly turned her head away from him. John didn't care; he was just relieved to see the back of the woman.

Kelore turned to them. "Well goodbye, gentlemen. I will keep you informed concerning Shiana's punishment and I hope next time we meet it is under better circumstances."

John replied. "I hope so, too."

After Kelore departed, Rodney turned to his companions. "What are we going to do about that?" he muttered, pointing to the body.

John tapped him on the shoulder and led him outside. "When we get back to Atlantis, I'll send a detail to bury him. I don't know about you but I don't feel like giving him a decent send off or anything."

Teyla joined them. She had overheard John's words. "He deserves nothing from us. I am happy to hear that you survived his murder attempt…again, John."

John smiled at her. "Yeah. Come on let's go home so I can shower and get rid of these clothes. They sink!"

"Positively." Rodney agreed, before turning to look directly at Sheppard. "You don't need the infirmary?"

John gave him a weary smile. "Why are you asking that? Apart from the routine check-up and maybe some antibiotics for this small bite wound," He held up this hand to show them, "I don't need the infirmary."

Ronon gave him a friendly slap. "That sure makes a change, buddy."

John stood still for a minute, watching his team walk away. Then he quickly moved to catch up. "Why do you think I need the infirmary?"

Teyla moved to his side. "Take no notice of them, John. We are just happy that you have survived all the ordeals of the past weeks.

"Yeah, I guess it was a little close this time."

The team exchanged a look and Rodney announced. "Then it's business as usual."

John laughed. "Yep, business as usual."

Rodney looked hopeful. "No more ferry boats."

"We'll try not to use one."

"No more smelly fish markets."

"I can't promise that."

"But you know how much I hate those places." Rodney whined.

Teyla joined in. "Rodney, sometimes they are necessary for gathering information."

"But…"

Ronon growled. "Live with it, McKay."

As they headed for the Stargate, John let the voices of his team wash over him; they were medicine to his soul. It was good to be alive, even if it was business as usual. But together they could face whatever the galaxy had to throw at them. That's all that mattered.

The End

_Well that's it. Hope you enjoyed the little adventure? Thanks for all the reviews and please review the last bit. _

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